“Damn, girl. You’ve got talent. It’s like you captured exactly how we feel about one another in one snapshot. How the heck did you do that?”
“You two did all the hard work. I just have good timing.”
“Your show next week is going to be heart stopping. Won’t be surprised if you don’t stay here much longer.”
“Please, and miss out on all the fun here? I seriously doubt I am going anywhere any time soon. There isn’t even going to be any big shots there, just family, friends and fun. All the Fs I need.”
“I’m not kidding; your stuff could be featured in Apollo or any fancy art magazine.”
“You are too kind. I’m not sure it works that way but thank you. I love doing it and that is enough.”
“Follow your passion and you will always be happy, right?”
“Something along those lines.” He brings me in for another hug before I shrug into my coat and we gather our things to walk down to our waiting cabs.
Gavin had to work at one of the other clubs across town but asked me politely if I would meet him at his loft. Always the gentleman. A gentleman with sadistic tastes and about as many rules for his lifestyle as I had for mine. Rules neither of us seem to care much about since stumbling into one another.
Chapter 13
Sorcha
My nervous fingers linger on the wood to his front door. Do I knock? Ring the bell? Go back home? I’ve heard wise men speak of doors that should never be opened. For if they are, you reach a point of no return and must be willing to deal with the ramifications that that one act can lead to. Some doors are not meant to be opened and should stay closed for that exact reason. We are at a monumental point in our relationship. Opening this door could mean many things in regards to not only our relationship, but also my own sexual self-discovery.
Is that a road I want to walk? Do I want to delve deeper into what defines me and my sexuality on a whole new level? Embracing this side opens up many more vulnerable aspects of my psyche, thus producing more need to protect myself from outsiders who don’t understand and are quick to judge. I already walk that line as it is having embraced the art of promiscuity on the level that I have. This little adventure will undoubtingly ensure this path to either be worth all that we have put at stake to be together or it will all go down in a heap of flames. Tick-tock, Sorcha…
The door opens from within before my internal debate can reach an indisputable conclusion only to be caught in the highly amused and slightly turned on set of whiskey headlights that make me freeze.
“Having second thoughts?” He smirks ruefully as he jerks his head to the camera above his door. Shit, he’s been watching me this whole time. Of course he has been.
“Just analyzing things,” I mumble as I push past him and into the interior of the loft.
“You and that mind of yours. I do believe I will have quite the time learning what it is going to take for me to get you to shut it off,” he purrs as he comes up behind me and tenderly slips the tailored pea coat from my shoulders. The contact sends shivers throughout as my heart slams into my ribs and my mind wagers war with the heat building inside.
“Good luck with that one,” I scoff as I set my purse down on the side table and attempt to shake off the effect of his velvety voice.
“Thanks, but I’m not going to need it. Have a seat.” His tone leaves no room for quarrel.
My mouth opens on its own accord to offer a sassy rebuttal, but one look from him and I snap it shut. For the love of God, I don’t know what just happened, but I think I might like it. His current edge is fairly new to me and a far cry from our typical interactions, yet reminiscent of the two times we have encountered one another at the Velvet Rope.
Gavin is completely at ease in his skin on a level I typically don’t see, yet his entire energy is palpable with authority and sex. A beast parading around in finely tailored apparel and hardwired gentlemanly idiosyncrasies that can easily lure one into a false sense of security. Men like this are a trap so easily fallen into. One could be savagely consumed in their entirety and left in a useless heap of nothing and not realize what had happened until after the dust had settled and the hallow cold began to creep in, eating away at you in the beasts absence.
“Now, we are not going to negotiate an actual BDSM contract at this time as I save those for when I plan on putting my training collar on someone. However, we will discuss a pre-scene checklist and questionnaire.” Gavin’s deep voice pulls me from the dangerous torrent of thoughts.
“I didn’t know there was a difference.”
“There is a huge difference. A contract is a form of commitment, hand in hand with collaring whether it be a collar of protection, training, or a full-blown collar, which is as serious as marriage in this community and treated with such respect.” An audible gulp escapes from my direction, eliciting a devilish grin from his handsome face. He knew exactly the reaction he would receive at the mention of marriage from me. “Now, safe words. Red and yellow are your typical beginner ones. I prefer to get a bit more creative. Do you have a preference?”
“I don’t want to get to creative, and then forget them.” That would be my luck─ forget my safe word safe word when I need it most.
“I seriously doubt that will be an issue for you.” He smirks.
“Ha-ha. Can’t I just tell you what I want and how I want it?”
“No, that is topping from the bottom, sweetheart, and not allowed.” A serious look shadows his face as he internally grapples with his displeasure at my innocent question.
I blow out through pursed lips and ignore what my brain really wants to say. “Fine, what would you suggest? And what is yellow?”
“Yellow means we need to slow down as we are approaching a trigger or a hard limit.”
“Can’t we use rabbit, tortoise, and roadkill then?”
“Are you going to take this seriously?” He leans into me and smells my perfume.
“This is my serious face.”
“Such a brat and we haven’t even begun. You are lucky that I have come to like brats.” What flickers over the lines of his face next simultaneously makes me clench my thighs and raises my hackles.
“Safe word: Commitment. Word for approaching my limit remains yellow. And if I am screaming your name, then I would consider that green,” I challenge, suddenly aroused by the building tension. His nostrils flare in equal excitement.
“Then it is safe to assume based on previous interactions that my name will be spending a lot of time on those lips,” he rumbles as he begins to unbutton his shirt while piercing me with those eyes. “I will agree to last night’s limit of the term Master, so you may call me Sir, while in scene. As far as how you will be referred to, I think brat, slut, sweetheart, and pet should be all that I need. I will avoid ‘girl’ unless we are addressing punishment. Does this sit well with you?”
“Slut does not, not at all.”
“Think of it as the reclaiming of an oppressive word through erotic definition.”
“Hmmm, perhaps. We can try it but if I don’t like it, I will certainly let you know.” Following his lead, I slip my knee-high boots off and place them by the door.
“I have no doubt about that. We’ve covered health screening by getting tested together and I see you take the pill every day, so that is taken care of as well. Are there any other health conditions you are forgetting to tell me about like you did with your asthma?” The hurt over withholding that bit is evident but his cocky stance quickly covers it up.
“Not that I can think of; I don’t have any food or drug allergies. I have sensitive skin and sciatica from getting kicked hard by a mentally unstable patient in medical school, but that is it.”
“Good to know. We will skin test prior to any chemical play. Did you press charges?” My bodily harm does not go unnoticed and will not be dismissed no matter how long ago that was.
“No, he was not in his right mind and being in the line of fire is what happens. I was stupid and
didn’t get out of the way. Can we move on?”
“Very well.” He grunts, clearly unhappy. “Any emotional issues from the past that could be a trigger? PTSD, trauma, emotional abuse, rape?”
“No, aside from being void of emotions I’m apparently supposed to have. I have had quite a good life and have been very lucky. I’m the way I am by my own wiring and choice, not because of some traumatic re-wiring if that is what you are asking.”
“Easy there, young filly. This is something that is always discussed prior to play. The goal is to avoid or be careful around any known triggers that might exist, that is all. We will skip over your experience in the lifestyle─ that is self-evident. On to bodily marks. On what level are they okay?” As if to emphasize, he removes his belt and enjoys the subtle jump from me.
“None, ever. What kind of question is that?” Fucking sadist, of course he wants to bruise me.
“Some play might get a little rough. Think about it, passionate kissing or sucking might leave a hickey or swollen lips. Are these things off limits?”
“No, as long as the hickey isn’t visible.”
“When you drag your nails up my back, it leaves marks of passion that I am quite proud to wear, but they quickly dissipate in a few days.”
“I see where you are going and remember Samuel covering how extreme play can get. No permanent marks, no opening of my skin. Light bruises or marks that will quickly heal are fine as long as they are not visible.” I sit on the edge of his couch as my trembling legs can’t seem to hold my weight anymore.
“Very good, pet. Do you have any fantasies you want to act out?”
“I am sure there are some but can’t think of them at the moment. Can I let you know?”
“As long as you don’t keep things from me and are honest when they come up, that is fine. Now, I am going to go down a list of types of play and you will tell me either yes, no or maybe. This is just a few to get started. The list is quite extensive, but I will never implement anything in play that we haven’t talked about first. If it is new to you, you will let me know if it is a yes, no, or maybe. If I slip up and make a mistake, don’t ever be ashamed of using your safe word. Are we clear?” He sits down next to me.
“Crystal.”
“You’ve already stated abrasion as a hard limit, I personally have no interest in age play, and we know how much you’ve taken to anal play. Let’s skip to arm binding.” He anxiously shifts closer.
“Yes.”
“Aromas or Asphyxiation?”
“Really, after my witnessed asthma attack, you’re gonna ask that?” My heart slams into my chest over the idea.
“I rather like a little gentle breath play. Just thought I’d ask.” He appears disappointed but understanding.
“No, certain aromas set off my asthma and anything with breath play is a hard limit.”
“Very well, biting and blindfolds?”
“Yes, as long as it doesn’t break the skin.”
“Whips, caning, flogs, hmmm… crops. We know you like that now, don’t we?” he dares, raising a brow.
I don’t take the bait crafted from a dark place that will get us nowhere. “Yes to all but the cane.”
“Cuffs, dildos, double penetration?” I see the strain of his bulge behind the seam of his pants start to erupt as his voice deepens.
“Yes,” I breathe. Did I just agree to all that?
“Electricity, forced chastity, face slapping, rape?”
“Maybe on the first two, hell no to the last two. What is involved with the electricity again?”
“Stimulation play with low-current electricity. I have a toy for that.”
For some strange reason, my thighs clench at the idea. “Yes to that then.” His brow rises in surprise.
“Wax play, fisting, food play?” he rapidly fires off, anxious to get on with it.
“Yes, no, yes.”
“Gags, hair pulling─ well, that’s a yes-
given or auctioned off to another Dom?”
“Shouldn’t you be writing all this down?”
“Answer.” His mask of control momentarily slips as he leans in to breathe me in.
“No to all but the hair pulling.”
“Giving head?” He smiles, nips at my neck, and tugs at the front of his pants.
“We’ve discussed that.”
“You had a bad experience, I am asking if you will revisit.”
“Maybe.”
“Good. Any type of deprivation─ sleep, food, or orgasm.”
“Lord help the man who dares venture down depriving me of food or sleep. Hell no.”
“You left out orgasm.”
“Somehow, I don’t think I get a choice in that matter.”
“No, you don’t. That is punishment.”
“Anything else?” My nipples are throbbing, and I can’t help but lick my lips in anticipation of tasting his tongue that is traversing the column of my neck.
“That is a shortened version of the list highlighting my personal favorites, some of the remainders I don’t care for, such as golden showers or scat play. Because of your hard limit of anything breaking the skin, that knocks off many. The rest, we will get to when it comes up. I have a pretty good feel for your limits now and already know how to read you quite well.”
“Do you now?” I pant and arch back into his caressing hand now traveling up my back.
“That’s it. I can’t fucking stand it anymore. The things you do to my self-control, woman! Get up; we are going to my room.”
I squeal as he pulls me from the couch and quickly puts me over his shoulder, carrying me down the hall.
“Gavin! What are you doing?” I giggle as he lands a hard palm onto the fleshy softness of my upturned ass before smoothing his warm hand over it.
“Rule number one─ never question me.
Rule number two─ your body is my playground and recess has begun.”
Shivering due to the partial chill mixed with irritation and the rush of excitement, I reflect how it has all lead to this─ me strapped down to a spanking bench, stripped bare, and ass presented in Gavin’s playroom that discreetly resides off his bedroom.
It all started the night I exercised what was thought to be my choice on leading a promiscuous lifestyle to pursue my own selfish needs outside of adult responsibilities. Up until that fateful night, meaningless sex with strangers barred only by the specific set of rules I controlled had made complete sense. It was easy, fun, gave me the thrill from the kinky edge it poised, and best of all─ no strings attached.
Commitment isn’t a phobia I have, even though many accuse me of it. It’s something I have always held in high regard, a standard in which I haven’t been ready to uphold yet. Having seen life so ridiculously stripped away from many undeserving people in med school, a logical vow was made then and there. This little lady swore to save commitment for a later time when she could better understand the need for it and until then, she would fill her days with only things that brought light, passion, and happiness into her world. Shackling myself to one individual in hopes of a lifetime of love and happiness seemed illogical and futile.
Having never been the little girl who dreamed of white dresses and forever love, I related more to the science of life and how things worked. Love at first sight didn’t scientifically make sense. There is no formula or mathematical equation that can be identified to yield the same desired results over and over or explain its compounding factors. Nor did the probability of lifelong happiness with one person, which is a damned impossibility in my mind when looking at the divorce rates and failed relationships that fuel most movies, songs, and books.
That being said, I have always left a portion of my heart open to the idea that on a rare instance outside of probability, should I meet someone that complimented me enough to share a compatible lifestyle with, I would consider it. Formulas don’t always apply, I know that. Until then, art and wild sex would be my mainstay to bring the balance I needed to my over-analyt
ical brain.
Photography seems to be the only thing aside from sex that shuts off my brain long enough for me to get lost in the wonder life holds. In a way, perhaps examining the world on the other side of my lens is just an extension of my already methodical nonsense. Even if, in those moments of watching the world, my heart seems to take the lead in a way it never has before. A way many exclaim love does for them.
I respect that about my parents, their never-ending love. Sure, they can brawl with the best of them but even in their darkest times, my mother will always kiss my father good night and he in turn will always tell her how beautiful she looks every morning, all in complete sincerity. They love each other beyond measure, beyond the twists, turns, and caveats of life. It is their relationship that I hold as the gold standard of commitment; it is why I have the upmost respect of the ideal they uphold and also why I have avoided even tempting the waters. The odds of me finding a match on that level to last a lifetime have always seemed improbable and would certainly detract from my current selfish behaviors.
Why on earth would I want to lure a man into a false sense of security by stating my supposed undying love when in reality, my mentality has been a far cry from ready for such a thing? Understanding yourself on such a level and being that honest can be quite freeing. Most men are predictable, childish at the root, and quickly bore me; I have yet to meet one that dared to consistently challenge, excite, and intrigue me… until that night that has led to now.
“While I tend to enjoy the sting of your tongue, I am going to ask you to do me a favor and try to keep your mouth shut and leave the rest of your body open to sensations. Do you think that you can do that?”
“Is that supposed to be a rhetorical question? Because making a request of silence prior to asking a question that requires a verbal response certainly seems that way,” I smart before I can think twice.
Scrupulous (An Affliction of Falling Novel Book 1) Page 20