Vanilla_Little Black Book Club

by Remi Richland

  7

  I swam through the layers of unconsciousness to the sound of my phone ringing, the shrill bell tones piercing the fog of my sleep suffused mind. Ugh, too early. It didn’t even matter what time it was, it was still too early. I had no job, nowhere to be, and no reason to get out of bed before I was damn good and ready so whoever was on the line could find something else to do until I felt like getting up.

  The caller was incessant. Four more times they called, until I was ready to pitch the phone across the room to make the noise go away. By the time it occurred to me to turn the ringer off I was already sufficiently awake so I just decided to look at it and see who was calling. It was Ash. The last two times as well. The two before that were Damien.

  Yikes.

  “Hello? I answered the phone nervously. Had something happened? Why had they called so many times?

  “Amelia, thank goodness! Are you okay?”

  “Why wouldn’t I be okay? Ash, I was sleeping, what’s going on? Are you okay?” Ash laughed in response to my question. A little too long actually, what the hell was so funny? “Ash, seriously, what’s so funny? You called a lot, I’m exhausted, is something the matter?”

  “Do you know what time it is?” I didn’t, but it didn’t matter since I didn’t have anywhere to be. Who cared?

  “I don’t know. Nine thirty? Ten in the morning?” The sun was up, so I guessed that was about right.

  “Oh my God Amelia, look at your phone. It’s freaking two in the afternoon. You’ve slept almost the whole day away. We’ve been trying to check on you, Sleeping Beauty, you’re lucky you answered the phone just now. Damien was about to leave the club and drive to your apartment, I’m sure you would have loved that.” And then he was laughing again, that little shit.

  “Why do you need to check on me? Did I do something last night that I’m not aware of?” Although thinking of the night before had me blushing clean up to the roots of my hairline. I’d done plenty last night that I had been aware of, I was just remembering them again because I was finally waking up.

  “Ame, you were punch drunk last night. Damien just wants to make sure you are feeling fine today. After effects can be scary, and different for everyone. He just wants to make sure you’re okay. You know, with everything.”

  “He’s so bossy,” I grumbled into the phone, and Ash laughed again.

  “You like it though.”

  “No, you like it Ash. It gets on my nerves when he gets so controlling. I don’t like being told what to do. I sure did like watching you get told what to do, though.” It was easier to talk about things like this with Ash, and being on the phone and not face to face helped a bit too.

  “No, I’m different. I don’t necessarily like being told what to do. I like being controlled during sex though. Lie to me right now and tell me you didn’t think it was hot. Having you go down on me at the end, and me not being able to move while Damien could? That was bliss to me. I’m not afraid to say I enjoyed it. That’s my freedom. To be able to say you excited me so much I could barely hang on. I have no problem voicing it. But you’re right. You aren’t like me. You are more like Damien than you think. I think that’s why you bump heads so much. It’s also why, I think, he is so protective of you. He can’t make you do what he wants. It’s hysterical, really, he’s looking out for you. To him that is really important. And you are such a brat to him, I love it. I want to play some more, Amelia. Don’t you?”

  Oh God, yes I do.

  My sharp intake of breath was loud enough to be heard over the line, and Ash’s voice dropped lower as he teased me through the phone. “I learned a lot last night, Amelia.” I missed Ash calling me V, but I must admit, having him say my name like Damien did had my heart picking up the pace a little.

  “Oh yeah? Like what?”

  “I learned that you get hot with dirty talk. I learned that you like the noises I make when you’re touching me.”

  Yeah, well, he wasn’t lying.

  “I also learned that you can make Damien lose his head.”

  “What?” I asked. That was new, and something I didn’t see at all.

  “What? You didn’t notice? Damien keeps his cool. Always. He is a textbook control freak and he never overlooks anything. That’s why he’s a perfect Dom for me.”

  “I don’t understand, how did he lose his head thought?”

  “Part of the reason he’s so good for me,” Ash continued, “is because I have a tendency to push the envelope. Sometimes I ask…even beg for things I can’t actually handle. Damien knows what I can and what I can’t. He knows my limit. I’ve never had to use my safe word with him. He takes me exactly to what he knows I can deal with and I’ve never felt that kind of safety with another person before. Certainly not another Dom, even though I had only had one serious relationship before.”

  “That Gregory guy?” I couldn’t see Ash being attracted to that guy and I let my disdain peek through in my voice.

  “Yeah, Gregory was my Dom. I didn’t really know any better. All of the experiences I had previously were situational, like at clubs and stuff. I didn’t have my own, personal Dom. He was the first. He was not good, Amelia.”

  “How so?” This was enlightening, and Ash was willing to tell me so I wanted to hear everything he had to say.

  “Gregory wasn’t careful. He didn’t take the time to know me. He also pushed things that I wasn’t comfortable with and even some things that were a hard limit. When I said no to things he would verbally abuse me. He made me feel worthless—and degrading is not my kink. No offense to those who are in to that sort of thing, but that’s a hard limit for me.”

  “What kind of things did he push on you?” He didn’t have to answer. He probably shouldn’t, but if I wanted to understand the hold that Gregory had over Ash, and why he had stood, trembling while that miserable excuse of a tool bag talked down to him, I needed to ask.

  “I’m not gay, Amelia.”

  “Okay.” I didn’t know what else to say to that.

  “I mean, I guess I can’t say I’m straight, right? But I don’t actively go out looking for dick when I want sex. I’m sexually attracted to my Dom. It’s the power, right? So if my Dom is a man, it’s sexual. But that doesn’t mean I want to participate in a massive orgy and open myself up to a group gangbang just because my Dom wants to watch me take a giant cock in my ass.”

  “He didn’t!” I would kill him. No one tried to hurt my Ash. When did he become my Ash? Right that second.

  “No, he didn’t. But he tried. When I stood up for myself and gave him the hard no, he treated me like dog shit. I didn’t have to put up with that. No one should. So I severed our relationship. He didn’t take it well. I ended up getting a different apartment because he started stalking me, trying to strong arm me into being his sub again. That’s not how a Dom/sub relationship works Amelia. When I met Damien, he was so patient with me, strong in the ways he needed to be but caring too. He built me back up. I’m glad you didn’t know me then. I’m glad the person I am now, is the person you know.”

  “Ash, I think you are perfect.”

  “Thank you, Amelia. What do you think of Damien?”

  “I think Damien is sexy as hell, but equally as bossy. I can’t decide whether I want to worship his naked body or wring his neck.” The words popped out before my brain could edit them. “I mean, I see him and I melt into this steamy little pool of lust—but then he opens his mouth and tells me what to do and I want to choke him a little.”

  Ash’s laughter burst through the phone line. “It’s like you’re the same person,” He gasped. “He would say the same thing about you—I love it.”

  While I did appreciate the insight into Ash’s past relationship, and explaining why he completely froze up at the club when faced with an old aggressor, I still had questions.

  “What did you mean when you said I made him lose his head?”

  “Ame, Damien never participates.” I didn’t know what he meant by that.


  “What do you mean?”

  “Exactly that,” Ash said. “Damien satisfies me. He takes care of me. And sometimes there will be another woman in our sessions, depending on what I need. He has never actively participated in a session outside of his Dom role. It would distract him from his duty, which is taking care of me. He just doesn’t do it. But you invited him, and he couldn’t get his hand up your skirt fast enough. If we’d just had more time—fuck.” Ash groaned into the phone, and I almost groaned with him, thinking of what could have happened last night.

  “I wonder what Damien would look like if he lost some of that rigid control,” I mused.

  “I’ve never seen it,” Ash admitted. “But I bet it would be something.”

  A tiny little light flickered in the back of my mind.

  I wonder…

  “Hey Ash…I have an idea.”

  Armed with some insider information and a solemn swear from an excited Ash that he wouldn’t breathe a word, I began the set-up of a lifetime. First step first, set up the trap. I would leave it to Ash to bait the hook. Until then though, I couldn’t talk to Damien. I would leave it to Ash to tell him I was doing okay. I just knew if I spoke to him, he would probably make me want to throttle him so until I get things ready I would have to avoid his calls.

  Absence makes the heart grow finder, right?

  I eyeballed the small black card on my desk.

  Little Black Book Club-what do you desire?

  Hmmm, I desired something very, very specific, and I would need Wesley to help me pull it off. I sat down with my laptop and typed in the web address on the card. Okay, Wesley, I thought to myself as I brought up the website and starting filling out what would turn out to be about fifty pages of incredibly personal questions, show me what you can do.

  My phone rang three hours later from an unknown number.

  “I must admit after last week I didn’t think I’d be hearing from you,” Wesley said when I answered, a trace of humor in his voice.

  “Well, before last night you probably wouldn’t have.”

  “Should I ask?”

  “Probably not,” I answered. I’d given him enough personal information through the Little Black Book Club website, he didn’t need to know about what Ash and Damien and I had been up to. I’m sure he figured it out anyway, based on my request.

  “While I’m delighted that you thought of me, wouldn’t it be easier to just set this up with the party involved?” Wesley wanted to know why I needed him, and I didn’t fault him for it—but he did serve a purpose.

  “Damien needs to relax.”

  “Yes, well, I’ve known him for twenty years, I don’t know if it’s possible,” and this time there was no mistaking the laughter in his voice.

  “He won’t do it if we just tell him. It needs to be an order. It needs to be part of a scene, I think. You know how he is about order. I want you to write up a contract for me. Just for one day—for one evening even. I need it to be as interesting as possible so he takes the bait. My talent doesn’t lie there, but I bet in your line of work you could make an offer he can’t refuse.”

  “This is very different. Interesting, but different. I don’t know that he will want to break his mold for this, but we can try.”

  “I don’t want to break him, Wesley. I just want to bend him a little. The first thing I want you to add is the glasses…”

  8

  It was more difficult than I thought, trying to avoid Damien. Mostly because he just kept calling. Every time my phone rang, I jumped, until finally I had to answer, or risk him showing up at the apartment again, and I wasn’t ready for that.

  “Amelia, what game are you playing?”

  I sighed. That was the first thing he had to say to me? Ash had much better conversation skills. “It’s not a game, Damien. Well, not like you’re thinking. I just want to do something nice. Something fun. Something you don’t have to be in charge of.”

  “Oh really? Then please tell me why you felt the need to involve Wesley? The Little Black Book Club? Amelia, that man deals with fantasy.”

  “What’s wrong with a little fantasy, Damien? Are you kink shaming?”

  “I would never. I simply don’t understand why you needed to call him. I am right here. Talk to me.” Oh, there it was. Damien was upset that I went to someone else with my needs, even if it involved him in a roundabout way. He was jealous, how cute.

  “I just wanted some help setting up something nice for you.”

  “Amelia, if you want something from me, all you have to do is ask,” Damien said, his voice silky smooth. He oozed confidence. It was that right there that made me glad I had asked Wesley for help.

  “Oh I’ll ask you all right. Do you agree to the terms?” This was precisely why I needed Wesley to draw up the terms of the “contract.” Rigid order, that was Damien’s bread and butter. For me to ask him for anything made him in charge of the answer. For him to be presented with a proposal, even from something as liberal as the Little Black Book Club, his only options were to say yes to the terms as they were presented. I went over every detail with Ash and Wesley to make sure I didn’t leave any loopholes. For once, I wanted Damien to do what I wanted him to do, not what Damien wanted to do.

  “I still don’t understand why I need to sign a contract for this. It looks like a date.”

  “Oh, it is.” I agreed quickly. “But it’s my fantasy date. Don’t be scared Damien, I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do. But this is my fantasy, I want to make sure you follow my rules. Can you do that? For me?”

  “All right, Brat, I’ll agree to your terms. I just hope you know what you are getting into. You know who I am, Amelia, you can’t dominate me.”

  “I don’t want to dominate you, Damien, I just want to do something nice for you,” I whispered huskily into the phone. I don’t know why it turned me on that he was giving in so easily, even if he called me a brat in the process. “Besides, just think about how fun it will be to make me pay for it later.”

  “I will,” he growled into the phone. There was a certain type of powerful I felt, knowing that I got under his skin bad enough for him to show it. “I’ll enjoy taking it out of you when you come back to work at the club. When are you coming back Amelia? Everyone misses you. Ash misses you.”

  Of course Ash missed me. He told me so this morning on the phone when we were scheming. “I’ll be open to negotiating the terms of my employment at another date, Damien,” I said, and his sigh of frustration was music to my ears. “We can talk about it after you fulfill the terms of your contract. I’ll see you Sunday evening.”

  Sunday came and I was a wreck, trying so hard to make everything come together. I wasn’t kidding about planning a date, it’s just that the date was dinner at my apartment, and that meant I had to cook. It wasn’t that I was bad at cooking—because I wasn’t. It turned out that Ash had a peanut allergy, and Damien had dairy issues. He couldn’t eat cheese. My life would be over if I couldn’t eat cheese. There were so many things to think about, just planning a simple meal, that I wondered how hard it was when Damien planned sessions for himself and Ash. There certainly was much more to remember between a Dom and a sub, and here I was stressing over food allergies.

  I cleaned the entire apartment and prepped dinner the day before. Honey chicken kebobs with zucchini, fresh mushrooms and cherry tomatoes were marinating in the fridge. Something delicious, yet light that I could make as one dish meal. I skipped a salad, but definitely went overboard on dessert—a pear almond tart, made from scratch. I’d spent all morning working on that tart, and in the end the crust had come out a little burnt on one side. I hoped no one would notice, but the rustic look of the pears arranged on the top of the tart added to the romance, I thought. There wasn’t anything wrong with me trying to make this a romantic evening. I think Damien could use a little romance in his life, even if he didn’t. I had a two bottles of a lovely cabernet on hand for Damien and I, and a bottle of moscato for Ash, since that
was his preference. Everything was perfect, now if I could just get my nerves under control I could get dressed and ready for them to come over.

  I erred on the side of less is more with my makeup. Not because I didn’t like makeup, but around Ash and Damien I normally didn’t wear a lot and I didn’t want to seem too heavily made up. I wanted to be the same as I always was. My outfit, however, was probably what I had poured the most effort into for the entire evening.

  It was deceptively simple.

  A plain black blouse with a simple black skirt. The same black skirt, actually, that I had worn to the club the week before. It wasn’t anything most people would notice. I was hoping, and willing to bet money, that Damien would. My outer clothing wasn’t as impressive as what I wore underneath, but I barely had time to get dressed and my hair brushed before the apartment bell was ringing, signifying the beginning of our “date.”

  Five seconds. I had five seconds of panic before I managed to make it to the door, and still I paused with my hand on the knob. Get it together Amelia. This is exactly what you wanted. This is your fantasy. So I pushed my fears and anxiety aside and slowly turned the knob, swinging the door wide to let in my guests.

  9

  They had come together, just like Ash had said they would. Ash entered the apartment immediately, as soon as I opened the door, and swept me up in a giant hug before I could even register he was there. As soon as he let me go from that he bent his head and captured my mouth in what I can only describe as the hungriest kiss I had ever experienced. He didn’t linger though, just attacked my mouth and then let me go, dazed by the assault. “It smells amazing in here, Amelia, what are you making?” He didn’t wait to hear my answer, just kept walking until he disappeared into the kitchen off to the right of the entryway.

  Well, no awkwardness there. Of course he could be doing me a favor on purpose. Breaking the ice like a champion and then giving me a private moment with Damien before the evening began. Speaking of the devil, he had stepped inside the apartment and shut the door behind him, but hadn’t made any move to come in any further. Typical of Damien, he wore a dark, long sleeve dress shirt, complete with a tie, perfectly pressed black slacks, and carried a bouquet of summer flowers in his hand. I knew why he had them, but a faint blush stained my cheeks anyway.