by Sophie Stern
Filthy
Sophie Stern
Copyright © 2015 by Sophie Stern
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Filthy
For some of us, spanking is more than just a fun way to spice things up.
For some of us, it’s a need.
For some of us, it’s like breathing.
For some of us, it’s a fire that burns to our core and fills us, burning deep.
I’ve been going to Club Blaze for two years now and I’ve tried every kink imaginable, but nothing gets me going the way a spanking does.
Nothing makes me as excited as feeling a firm hand hold me down while another reminds me how bad I’ve been.
Nothing.
But the one person I want to share this side of me with the most is the one person who will never accept me for what I really need: to be controlled.
Contents
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2.
3.
4.
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6.
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10.
Author
Seducing the Lawyer
1.
“What are you doing tonight?” Landon Trosper has been my best friend since grade school. The two of us have been inseparable in all things, except for this. He has no idea how I really spend my Friday nights, no idea what I’ve been drowning with for the last two years, no idea how much I need this.
Landon can never know.
“Spin class,” I lie. “Then drinks with the girls.” It’s my standard excuse, one that doesn’t push him to try to discover more about why I won’t see him on Fridays. He’s usually busy working or attending galas on the weekends, anyway, so I tell myself that he won’t miss me when I can’t tag along.
“Sounds like fun,” he grins. “It’s nice to see you so dedicated to your…exercise.” I think I see something behind his smile. A bit of mischief, perhaps? No, it can’t be. He can’t have any idea where I really go on these nights.
He can’t know about this part of my life.
“What are you doing?” I ask, taking a bite of my sandwich. The deli we meet at is halfway between both of our workplaces, though closer to mine. Most people wouldn’t believe that Mr. Trosper could enjoy lunch on less than $100 a plate. Landon is, after all, the CEO of a multi-million dollar company.
And me?
I run Tattered Pages: an independently owned and operated bookstore in the not-so-great part of town. Though my store is small, dusty, and filled with very, very used books, I love it. I make just enough to live off of and afford my dues at Club Blaze. That’s it, but it’s all I need.
“Art gallery opening,” Landon tells me as he finishes his own sandwich. I roll my eyes.
“Of course,” I say. “When was the last time you had a Friday night that wasn’t spent at some sort of opening?” Seriously. Landon and I make it a point to meet at least once a week for lunch, and he’s always harping on about some sort of show or gallery or museum. No wonder he doesn’t have time to date.
“Why? Do you have any recommendations of something a little more…fun?” He shoots back.
I blush, feeling heat rise in my body. My eyes find their way to a piece of lettuce on my plate, and I start to eat it, not looking at him.
“No,” I mumble, wondering for the thousandth time why I don’t just tell him. Why can’t I admit how I really feel? Why am I so afraid? Landon and I would be so perfect for each other, except for this. We’ve known each other forever, know about every heartbreak, every crush, every good date gone wrong, but I can’t bring myself to admit to him that I’m more than a little bit kinky.
I’m addicted to spanking.
It’s probably strange, but I rarely sleep with the dominants I play with at Club Blaze. Sometimes, on a rare occasion, there will be something. For the most part, though, I just need to be controlled. I need to be dominated. I need someone to tell me how bad I am and to punish me for it.
And with every swat, with every slap, with every touch of the crop, I’m reminded of what I truly am: a liar who won’t tell Landon Trosper that I’m in love with him.
2.
“You look good,” I tell myself in the mirror. “You look amazing.” My dark brown hair is down, hanging in loose curls over my shoulders. Unless specifically instructed, I never wear my hair up at the club. It’s more fun down. I run my hands down my toned stomach and back up to my breasts, turning several times in the mirror, making sure I like the way this bra looks.
It’s white with blue lace. The panties match. It’s not what I would usually wear to a scene, but tonight is different.
Tonight I’m playing with the Alpha.
I’ve had a lot of partners at Club Blaze, but the Alpha has always turned down my requests for a session. I’ve never known why, but when Brandi, one of the managers at the club, called me this week and told me that the Alpha had requested me, I was thrilled.
And terribly, horribly, nervous.
No one knows who the Alpha really is. Everyone at Club Blaze has been carefully screened, tested regularly for STDs, and signed a non-disclosure agreement, so most players don’t bother with masks or secret identities. The Alpha, though, has always been different.
He doesn’t always play, but when he does, the entire club knows it.
Any girl that’s been lucky enough to do a scene with him has been ruined for other men.
They’ve never been as satisfied as they were with him.
They’ve never been as complete.
The black mask he wears over his eyes ensures that no one really knows who he is, but it doesn’t matter. His ability to dominate anyone of his choosing is identity enough.
And he told Brandi that I need to wear white.
So here I am, standing in front of my bedroom mirror, trying to convince myself that I look good enough for my scene tonight. It’s going to be a private session in a private room. No one else is going to be able to watch, which is fine with me. I’ve been dying to have a turn with the Alpha, so I’m content knowing that his attention will be focused completely on me.
If I do a good enough job, maybe there will be more scenes.
Maybe he’ll even be willing to train me as a submissive.
All I know is that by the time I pull my white cocktail dress over my body, my panties are already soaked and my pussy is aching for what’s about to come.
I’m going to get spanked by the Alpha.
And I’m going to love every second of it.
3.
I wonder if I should text Landon.
After all, he’s stuck at a stupid art gallery opening. Shouldn’t I save him from total boredom? Shouldn’t I rescue him and spice up his evening?
I stare at my phone, having a very heated internal debate.
We’ve been friends forever. He was even my prom date when my boyfriend, Kyle, bailed on me at the last second. But we’ve only been friends.
And now Landon is a powerful CEO who can literally have any woman he wants: and he has. He’s been with supermodels, actresses, and businesswomen. He’s been with gorgeous women I could never compete with, women I could never even come close to topping.
I want to invite him to Club Blaze tonight. I want to ask if he’ll come watch me in this scene. I’ve been craving the Alpha since the first time I saw him perform at the club, and now it’s my turn. I have no idea why he finally decided to let me play with him and I have no idea what he has in store for me, but I know that having Landon there watchi
ng me sweat, watching me tied up and needy, watching me cry out for mercy, would make the entire experience a million times better.
But Landon has always been fairly private about his sexual exploits, and I don’t know that Club Blaze is something he’d approve of.
I imagine his reaction every Friday when we meet for lunch. Every week he asks what my plans are and every week I lie to his face. I imagine how he’d respond if I told him, “I’m going to an exclusive sex club tonight so a stranger can spank me until my ass is bruised and sore and I can’t sit straight until Monday. Wanna come?”
I can’t tell him.
He would never understand.
But still, having this enormous secret from him drives me crazy, drives me nuts. I wish I could share this part of my life with him and have him accept me for it.
I pull out my phone. I need to leave in ten minutes if I want to be able to have a drink before my session, and I absolutely need to have a drink before my session, but I send Landon a text anyway. Whether I’m fueled on adrenaline, excitement, or fear, I don’t know.
Hey, I hope you have fun tonight.
I click “send” before I can over think it. I never text Landon on Friday nights, so I’m surprised when my phone beeps a minute later.
You too, Beautiful. Excited about drinks tonight?
I read the message out loud to myself and wonder what to say back. I need to say something back. Dammit! What do I say back?
“I’ve been in love with you since you took me to prom,” seems like something I should say to him in person.
“I hate seeing you with other women,” seems desperate and clingy, especially when I’m about to go play with another man.
“Want to watch a powerful Alpha tie me up and spank me?” seems like something I should ease him into.
Finally, I sigh and realize it’s been a full five minutes. He’s going to wonder what the hell is wrong with me.
Yeah, I’m excited about tonight. I miss you though. Wish we were hanging out. :
I click send before I can take it back. It’s the first time I’ve been even sort of honest with Landon about my feelings. He always asks why I’m not dating anyone seriously and I never have a real answer. “I’m waiting for you to notice me” seems stupid, almost as stupid as, “The only man I’ve ever wanted is you.”
I sit and stare at my phone. Nothing happens and I really need to get going if I’m going to get that whiskey burning in my belly before my beating.
I grab my keys, my purse, and slip on my shoes.
I take one last look at my phone before I head out the door and there’s a message from Landon:
I wish we were, too, Beautiful. Be safe tonight.
4.
I manage to make it through the main room of the club and over to the bar in one piece. I situate myself on one of the stools and ask the bartender for two drinks. He quickly brings me what I asked for and I drop some money on the counter. I down my first drink quickly and take my time with the second. There’s a clock on the wall behind the bar, so I know I have a few more minutes until I have to meet The Alpha. Brandi has my cell phone, per club rules, so I can’t see if Landon said anything back to me.
But I’m thinking about him.
What is it that has me so obsessed with my best friend? I love that he knows everything about me, but I hate that he doesn’t know this one part. I need to tell him, I realize for the millionth time. I need to tell him about the club, about my secret life, about my dark desires. I need to tell him and see what he says.
Maybe he’ll surprise me.
Maybe he’ll accept me.
As I finish my second drink, I’m back to thinking it’s a bad idea. Landon couldn’t handle this part of my life. He’s too good for this sort of behavior. He’s too good for weird fetishes and strange kinks. Landon’s too perfect for a girl like me.
The bartender nods toward the clock, silently reminding me that I need to get going. A session with the Alpha is hard enough to get. I don’t need to fuck it up by being late.
I drop a few extra bills on the counter and leave, walking toward one of the dark hallways that lead away from the main room. The one I’m going toward is strictly reserved for people with private sessions, whether they be practicing for performances or simply training.
Keith, one of the security guards, stops me at the entrance to the hall.
“Hi Keith,” I say politely, and he nods.
“Rachel, you know the rules. Do you have a session?”
Now it’s my turn to nod. I swallow my fear as I do. My senses are on high alert as I realize that when I walk down this hall, there will be no going back.
“Yes, with the Alpha.”
If Keith is surprised, he doesn’t show it as he permits me to walk down the hallway.
“Diamond Room,” he says simply, and I enter the dark tunnel that’s going to lead me to unknown pleasures – and pains.
As I pass each room, I hear different sounds. The first room has a woman laughing as a man moans. The next one is quiet except for obvious sex noises: slobber and thrusting. I try not to pay attention to the sounds as I feel my own arousal growing. My panties are soaked by the time I reach the last door.
The Diamond Room.
Unlike many of the play rooms at Club Blaze, the Diamond Room is reserved for special occasions. It has everything you need to do a good scene, of course, but it also tends to be for more, uh, “tame” fantasies.
The Alpha always uses this room for his private sessions. I have no idea why. It doesn’t have a St. Andrews cross or a spanking table. It doesn’t have anything hanging from the ceiling. No suspensions. Nothing.
No, this room has a huge bed, candles, and all the little devices you’d expect a couple trying to re-enact Fifty Shades to use. The wall is lined with candles and the bed in the center of the room is shaped like, well, like a huge fucking diamond.
I take a deep breath.
Once I enter, there is no stopping. I never use safe words. I also know the Alpha’s reputation well enough to know that his subs never need them. He is an expert at reading body language. He’s the ultimate Dom.
I knock before I enter the room, unsure of whether or not I’ll be the first to arrive.
“Enter,” I hear a voice from the other side of the door.
I turn the knob.
There’s no going back now.
5.
The room is dark when I walk inside, lit only by a single candle against the far wall. I can see the Alpha’s outline across the room, but not much else. I close the door behind myself and stand next to it, quietly waiting my instructions.
“You’ve been wanting to play for a long time,” he says.
I nod, suddenly very nervous. Why did I beg for this? Why did I ask to play with him? I’m not ready for this. The Alpha is the most experienced Dominant that Club Blaze has. He’s a legend. He’s untouchable. He’s everything I will never be and I don’t think I can keep up with him.
Suddenly, I’m terrified.
“Answer me,” his voice comes again, strong and determined.
“Yes, Sir,” I say quietly. “I want to play with you. I’ve been trying to get a session with you for quite awhile, but I’ve always been refused the honor.”
“You weren’t ready yet,” he tells me, his voice thick with a southern accent I can’t quite place. Texas, maybe? I see him pick up the candle and begin to light others that line the walls of the room. I stay exactly where I am, not daring to move further into the dungeon, not daring to make a misstep or a mistake.
“I’ve been watching you, Rachel,” the Alpha speaks again as he places the last candle in its holder on the wall. The flames flicker and dance, revealing him in the dim light. He’s wearing a black suit, along with his mask. Always his mask.
“Do you like what you’ve seen?” I ask quietly, trying not to stare at his bulge pressing against his pants. It’s huge and hard, begging me to suck it. I’m surprised at the sudden desire I
feel to be taken by the Alpha. The Dominants I play with usually spank me, but that’s it. Rarely do I fuck anyone from the club. Rarely do I feel the need.
Tonight, though, my entire core rakes with desire.
Tonight I want the Alpha to impale me with his dick, to wash away all the fear and loneliness I’ve been feeling this week, to remind me why I come here.
Tonight, I need him to make all of my decisions for me, to allow me, even for an hour, to be completely his.
“You’ve grown a lot since you began coming to Club Blaze,” the Alpha comments. He’s closer now, walking in circles around me, looking my body up and down but not touching me. “When you first arrived here, you were stubborn and determined, never willing to take an order.”
He’s been watching me.
I should have known.
Whether I should be bothered or turned on, I don’t know. I don’t have time to think about how I feel. Not just yet.
“And now?” I gasp as he stops behind me, placing his hands on my hips. He pulls me backwards, into him, pressing his hardness against the thin fabric of my dress.
“Now you’re ready to be dominated by the Alpha, Rachel,” he says. “Now you’re ready for everything I have to show you.”
He reaches around my dress, cupping my breasts. I feel his mouth warm against my neck, but he doesn’t kiss me. Instead, he bites me hard and I cry out, not expecting the pain he’s inflicting on me so quickly.
“Quiet,” he tells me, slapping my breast through my dress. Despite the layers, his swat still stings my skin, and I bite my lip to keep from whining. Noticing my obedience, he moves one hand beneath my dress and up to my panties. His fingers find their way to my clit and he rubs me for a moment. “Good Pet,” he whispers. “You learn quickly.”
I suck in a moan, not willing to disobey again and have his hand move from my body, not willing to stop this feeling, but as my eyes are closed in the darkness of the room, I surprise myself by wishing I had summoned the courage to invite Landon.