Allie was silent as she thought about what a hundred dollars would buy her—groceries for two weeks, part of a car payment, part of her credit card bill, which had somehow gotten away from her over the past few months. As much as she hated to admit it, a hundred bucks—maybe nothing to a guy like Bob—was a lot of money to someone like her.
She pushed the card back toward Bob. “That’s a lot of money for something like that.”
“Yeah, I know. I don’t envy you young people, trying to make it in this world. Things were a lot easier back in my day.” He reached down and pulled something out of his bag. Allie saw it was a pen, heavy and fine, like his watch. He put his hand over the card and brought it toward him. Flipping it over, he scrawled something on the other side. He pushed the card back in her direction.
“I just gave you a free access code. You’ll see where to enter the information when you sign up. It will allow you to use the site free for a month, and decide if it’s for you or not. No strings. You don’t like it, you just let it expire. There’s no automatic renewal or any of that bullshit other sites try to pull.”
He swiveled his stool away from the bar and stood, pulling his too-small vest down over his belly. He turned to Allie with a smile and extended his hand, which she took automatically.
“It was nice to meet you, Allie. I wish you all the luck in the world. My sign-on at the site is Master underscore Bob.” He grinned, dropping her hand. “Yeah, I know. Real original, right? But it gets the message across. Keep it simple, I always say. I hope I’ll see you at BDSMConnections. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I see a lovely lady sitting alone at that table over there.” Grabbing his gear bag from the floor, he tipped a nonexistent hat and walked away.
Allie turned back to the bar and looked again at the card. She closed her hand over it, smiled and shrugged. Why not?
~*~
Liam Byrne opened the link for BDSMConnections and scrolled through the new female members. He still couldn’t quite believe he was bothering, but reminded himself it was just for fun. No expectations, no emotional investment, no big deal. Just reaching out into the void to see what he might find.
The place did seem to attract a higher quality of clientele than the usual BDSM hookup sites, so many of which were just fronts for escort services and players. A photo was required, as well as a detailed profile. No random shots of disembodied genitalia were permitted. In the month he’d been on the site, he’d made a few nice connections, had a number of mildly stimulating sex chats and exchanged some thought provoking emails with women who had potential, if and when he ever decided he was ready to meet them face-to-face. If nothing else, the site had provided a few hours of pleasant distraction, of getting out of his own head. That was certainly worth something.
He clicked on a photo that caught his eye—a decent quality headshot of an attractive thirty-something woman. She was very pretty, with long, blond hair cut nicely around an oval face, her dark eyes and complexion probably an indication that blond wasn’t her natural color.
Then he read her profile tag line: BrattySexKitten – I’ve been a very bad girl. I need a strong Master to put me in my place. He shook his head. No thank you. Not his style. He wasn’t interested in playful slap and tickle as a form of foreplay. He wanted more. He needed more.
When he found the right woman, she would kneel before him and offer herself completely, without reservation. The connection had to be real. It had to be a true exchange of power. She would give him the gift of her total sensual submission, and he, in return, would cherish and nurture that gift.
Liam grinned at himself and shook his head. He could almost hear Matt’s chuckle. “Dude, you’re not going to find the love of your life on some hookup site, no matter how pricey the monthly fee. You’ve got to get out there, man. You’ve got to take risks. Life isn’t a dress rehearsal. This is all we got. You, of all people, should know it can be snatched away at any moment.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Liam said aloud, as if Matt were actually beside him. Absently, he leaned down to massage the pain in his left leg as he scanned the screen for something more promising.
Then he saw her.
He stared for a long time at the image of a young woman with a tumble of coppery hair that fell around her shoulders. She had sparkling blue eyes and a cute little nose, but it was the smile that drew him in and held him fast.
It wasn’t just the beautiful, sensual line of her pouty lips lifting up to reveal white, even teeth, or the deep dimple in her left cheek. For the first time in his life, he understood on a gut level what people meant when they said a smile lit up an entire face. She radiated a kind of innocent joy, coupled with saucy sweetness. Yet, in those deep, sky-blue eyes, he also saw shyness, or maybe it was sadness? Whatever it was, the combination of emotions playing over her lovely face worked somehow to make his stomach flip and his heart ache.
He held his breath as he read her tag line. Sub Allie - seeking intensity of experience with an experienced, honest Dom who understands the power and grace of total sensual submission.
Holy shit.
He clicked on the icon that allowed him access to her profile. He was able to view the number of people who had already contacted her since she’d signed up two days before. Shit—forty-seven guys had already poked, winked at and/or emailed her. Should he even bother?
He knew even as the question floated through his mind that of course he would bother. He would get in line with the rest of them and beg for a chance to say hi. Jesus, was he pathetic or what?
Stop it. You’re just exploring. Reaching out. Remember: no expectations. No big deal.
She was two years younger than he and single. She was from Massachusetts—the other side of the country. That was okay—it wasn’t like he planned to meet her in real life any time soon. She had extensive experience in the scene—that was good. Liam wasn’t up for training a virgin sub. Been there, done that.
He scanned the checklist of desires and turn-offs. She had checked off virtually every category of BDSM play, including bondage, erotic torture, sensory deprivation, whipping, spanking, and even needle, knife and blood play. Under the category of hard limits she had written: no scat, no bestiality, no children. Other than that, I trust my Master to take me where I need to go.
Was she real?
Liam’s cock hardened as he imagined Allie—a terrific name that perfectly matched that smile—bound and suspended from the beams in his dungeon basement, her naked body slowly spinning as he caressed her flesh with a whip and painted dark red welts across her skin.
He pulled the keyboard closer and positioned his fingers over the keys.
From: Liam B.
To: Sub Allie
Subject: Your profile
Hi Allie,
I saw your profile and wanted to introduce myself. My name is Liam Byrne. I am thirty-two and single, never married. I am sexually dominant with a passion for all things BDSM. I, too, have had extensive experience in the lifestyle. I have lived with two different women also into the scene, and while the BDSM connection with each was intense and satisfying as far as it went, the relationships eventually ran their course and we parted ways.
Liam paused and reread what he wrote. Too much information? It sounded like he couldn’t sustain a relationship; like he’d been dumped. Which was actually true, at least with Lila, though she hadn’t left him because he wasn’t a good Dom. She left him because— Stop. You don’t dwell on that shit, remember? The past is the past.
He deleted what he’d written and started again.
Hi Allie,
I was struck by the poetry and passion of your profile. It is refreshing to discover a kindred spirit. I hope you will take the time to read my profile to determine if you agree there is potential between us. I look forward to hearing from you.
Regards, Liam
He stared at what he’d written and nodded, satisfied. Short and sweet. If she was interested enough to click on his profile link, she’d learn what she
needed to know about his status, likes and dislikes. The headshot was from before the accident, but he still looked the same, if perhaps a little less carefree and clueless.
“Just do it,” he said aloud. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Hit the fucking send button.”
He did.
Chapter 2
Allie’s laptop pinged, the sound indicating another email. She looked up from her worktable, which was strewn with gold and silver wire, stones, precious gems and strips of raw silk.
Though she’d been skeptical at first, she’d used the access code the guy at Spanked had given her and signed up the next morning. After all, it wasn’t like she was meeting Master Right on her own. Maybe widening the selection pool to include online possibilities made sense, if she wanted to meet someone before the decade was out.
She had to admit, as far as that sort of site went, BDSMConnections was a pretty good one. At least you weren’t barraged with constant, pulsing ads of naked, impossibly endowed bleached blondes on their hands and knees making that odd face they made that was half-pout, half-grimace, which Allie supposed men must find sexy, but she sure didn’t.
Everyone on the site was required to complete a detailed questionnaire about who they were and what they were looking for, and include a headshot. No photos of some old guy’s bare, saggy ass in a thong or a close-up of an erect penis and balls were permitted, thank goodness. Those, she supposed, would come later in private emails. Gosh, she couldn’t wait.
Don’t be cynical, she could hear Lauren saying.
Almost the second she’d filled out her profile and posted her picture, she’d been inundated with emails from guys asking for everything from a private sex chat quickie to an offer to fly her, all expenses paid, to Dubai to serve as the personal sex slave of some supposed prince or other. Uh, thanks but no thanks.
Still, the site was fun to navigate. You could view everyone’s complete profile, and there was a thumbnail headshot attached to every email so you could put a face with a name. The place had several thousand members from all over the country. Who knew, maybe Mr. Right was just waiting for Allie to find him.
Some of the guys were a little too sadistic, even for her taste. While she fantasized about being suspended and whipped until she orgasmed from the erotic pain, one guy, styling himself as Marquis de Cruel, wanted to take it a step further, whipping her until she passed out in a pool of her own blood. Marquis de Criminally Insane might have been a better user name, though she did understand fantasy did not necessarily equal reality. In this case, she fervently hoped not.
No question though, the place was a definite time sucker. It was ridiculously easy to spend way too much time scrolling through the profiles of potential lovers, and time wasn’t something she managed all that well in the first place. Though she had the luxury of being her own boss, that came with the stress of being her own boss. If she didn’t produce, she didn’t eat. It was that simple. Though it was going on ten at night, she still had several pieces left to complete by tomorrow, and no Rumpelstiltskin was going to appear to do it for her. On top of this job, she had three new necklace commissions to fill, plus the show coming up for that new boutique in Cambridge. She had no business checking emails.
Ping.
“Okay, okay,” Allie said aloud in the way people who live alone often do. She pushed back from the table. “I’ll just take a quick break and see which prince wants to fly me to what country today.”
She went over to the desk and tapped a key to wake her laptop screen. Sure enough, the email was from BDSMConnections, advising her that she had twenty-six new emails on the site. She clicked the saved icon in her bookmarks to open the site and navigated to the emails. While Allie made it a point to read all the emails eventually, since it only seemed fair to at least give them a shot if they’d gone to the trouble to contact her, now she just scrolled through the pictures to see if there was anyone there who grabbed her attention enough to merit a read right now, when she should be working.
Then she saw him.
Very dark hair cut a little long, matched by a few days’ stubble over an angular face with a firm jaw and chin, a wide mouth, a slightly crooked nose and startlingly green eyes. He was very handsome. No, handsome wasn’t the word, or maybe not enough of a word. Something in his expression was arresting, powerful. Dare she say it—masterful. She could feel his pull as if he were summoning her from the screen. Her knees actually tingled with a sudden desire to kneel before this man, this tiny thumbnail of a man’s face, if she was to be accurate. How crazy was that?
She was momentarily distracted by several small boxes that appeared at the bottom of the screen. They were chat requests from members currently online who must have noticed she’d logged on. She ignored them, too focused on what she was doing even to hit the X button on each that would make them disappear.
Instead she clicked on the icon to open the email.
From: Liam B.
To: Sub Allie
Subject: Your profile
Allie held her breath as she scanned the email, looking for the false step, the insincere come-on, the impossible promises of instant submissive Nirvana if she just hooked up with this amazing Master. She blew out the breath when she came to the end of the short, direct and simple email.
“You passed the first test, Liam B.”
She clicked on the link in his signature line that took her to his profile, reading more slowly as she perused his likes and dislikes, hard limits, turn-ons, experience in the scene and what he was looking for in a partner. The virtual pen she always kept poised in her virtual hand hovered, ready to mark a little X beside something he said, but no virtual red ink flowed. He was everything she sought in a Master—dominant, self-assured without being arrogant, heavily into the full and intense exploration of all four of those marvelous initials—B, D, S and M. It didn’t hurt that he was young and single and extremely easy on the eyes.
The guy was perfect.
At least on paper.
Another small message box popped up at the bottom of her screen and Allie nearly hit the X, her finger stopping just in time as she read the name at the top of the box: Liam B.
He was online!
Ridiculously, her finger actually shook as she pressed the key to activate the private message chat.
Liam B.: Hi there. I see you were checking out my profile. Did I pass the test?
Allie was grinning so hard her cheeks hurt.
Sub Allie: Actually, yes. With flying colors.
Liam B.: Very cool. You passed mine as well.
That took her a little aback. So men had tests too? Well, of course they must, at least discerning men, which Liam B. obviously was. Little undulating bubbles appeared on the small chat screen, indicating he was typing. Allie waited for the next message to appear.
Liam B.: Thing is, I don’t know about you, but I hate internet chatting. Would you be amenable to a quick phone call if it’s not too late on your side of the country?
Your side of the country.
Shit! She’d been so caught up reading his answers to the BDSM questions, she hadn’t noticed where he was from. She glanced again at the profile, clicking the section with geographic information. Her heart sank when she read he lived in Portland, Oregon. Only a billion miles across the continent.
Allie sighed aloud.
The message bubbles appeared again.
Liam B.: If not, it’s cool. But if you’re up for it, that would be great. I think it’s a more authentic way to connect—to cut to the chase, if you will. I just want to say hi.
Allie thought about it. So, he was on the other side of the continent. So what? There were airplanes, right? Not that she planned to leap onto one and fly across the country any time soon. She was just in the throes of a very new infatuation. She knew nothing about this guy, this Liam B., beyond what he’d chosen to carefully craft in his profile. For all she knew he was actually five hundred pounds, bald and twice her age. Or married. Or secretly su
bmissive. Oh, those were the worst. The ones who pretended they were Doms, but really they wanted a Dominatrix—a “strong woman”—that was usually giveaway terminology—to help them connect with their submissive side. No thank you!
A phone call was probably a really good idea. You could learn more from talking for a just a few minutes than from reading a profile checklist and a few sentences about goals and experience.
Liam B.: Hey, no big deal. Maybe another time.
“Wait!” Allie cried aloud. “Don’t go!” She typed rapidly.
Sub Allie: Sorry! I hadn’t realized you were in Oregon. I was just thinking about that.
Liam B.: Since we haven’t even said hi yet, it might be jumping the gun a bit to worry about our respective locations.
That stung, but at least he’d used the smiley emoticon.
Sub Allie: Point taken.
What the hell. Nothing ventured…
Sub Allie: Here’s my cell number.
She picked up her phone and stared at it as she waited for it to ring. Within a few seconds, the chimes she’d chosen for people not in her contact list began to tinkle. Her heart racing, feeling more like fourteen than thirty, Allie swiped the screen to connect the call.
“Hello?” she said. “This is Allie.”
The man spoke in a deep, pleasing baritone, a smile in his voice. “Hi, Allie. A pleasure to meet you. I’m Liam. Liam Byrne.”
BDSM Connections - The Complete 4 Novel Series Page 2