by M. C. Cerny
“Mr. Tanner, you’re back.”
He smiled at me and removed his big, black hat I remembered from our first encounter. I figured this was probably be a routine trip for him as he’d told me, but it feels different the way his eyes home in on me, just me.
“Of course I am. Call me Sloan, darlin’.”
Smiling, my face grew hot listening to his word drawl out like taffy candy, slow and sweet.
My manager stepped in to take over asking, “Do you need any help, Sloan?” Alexis had told me after meeting him that first day that Sloan Tanner was a well-known and wealthy rancher in south Texas. She put her hand on my shoulder squeezing it gently, and I moved back to let her step into my place at the counter a little disappointed that Sloan wasn’t here to see me.
“I’m sure Langley can see to my needs just fine. Can’t you darlin’?” Surprise filled me at his request, and that riotous blush was back in my face again.
“Of course,” I answered back listening to Alexis make a huffing sound as she retreated back to her desk behind a glass wall, keeping her eyes trained on us.
“Thank you for the flowers.” I didn’t want him to think I was ungrateful or hadn’t gotten them.
“You’re welcome. I usually have to make a large transfer each month, but I was hoping you might be able to assist me with something else.” He tipped his head down, voice low and leaned in close over the counter. Our faces were mere inches apart.
“Anything,” I said, not thinking how open that statement was left to interpretation.
He leaned back, eyes fixed on mine. “Perfect. You like meat?”
“Meat?” I asked.
“Steak, darlin’. Tell me you aren’t one of those broccoli chicks.”
“Oh, no. I mean I do like vegetables, but I eat meat. I eat any kind of meat—steak I mean.” God, I must have sounded like an idiot. It’s not like I never dated, but I couldn’t seem to form a coherent thought in his presence.
“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at seven in front of the bank. Wear a dress, please,” he requested.
“A dress?”
“For dinner,” he said giving me a wink before he placed his big hat on my head and walked out of the bank with a swagger in his step.
I felt like I had entered an alternate world and blindly reached for the hat now sitting on my head. The brim was wide and soft, and my smile consumed my face looking at his retreating backside exit the bank in his dark jeans and black cowboy boots.
“Well, looks like Mr. Tanner has found himself a new filly,” Alexis said, and I wasn’t sure she meant it entirely complimentary.
4
Sloan
My super cab truck picked up speed down the main street of Karim heading toward the bank. The digital clock indicated it was just before seven. Anticipation filled my senses forcing me to adjust my suit pants. If this was any indication of the rest of the night, especially when I had no plan to fuck Langley—merely get to know her—this was not good. Control ruled every aspect of my life and already this girl distracted me. If she agreed to my terms, life at the ranch would be a drastic change from my typical routine, and I wasn’t sure how I felt about giving that up. It took everything in me to not come back to Karim sooner and the weakness of admitting that to myself grated on my nerves, leaving me edgy and unpredictable.
Tonight I was taking her to The Club but not before I put some much needed emotional distance between us. I needed to get myself under control and get a hold of this desire for her. The plans were outlined in my head of how the evening would go. I would not deviate.
Dinner where I planned to learn more about her.
Followed by a brief tour of The Club where I would make my offer.
Ending with dessert, or at least a taste of her to tide me over.
I saw her before she saw me, and my fingers tensed holding the steering wheel. Fuck. Dinner would definitely take too long tonight. She stood in front of the bank, a dress skimmed her honey-colored legs, and heeled shoes covered her feet with ribbon that wrapped around her ankles with jaunty chocolate bows that matched her dress. She looked good enough to eat, and my mouth watered thinking about how she might taste.
I parked on the street, throwing it into park, and hopped out too impatient to turn the truck off.
“Hello, Langley.” I watched her eyes dart away, feigning interest in the brightly painted fire hydrant, and I had to touch her. My hand skimmed her arm, and she sighed turning toward me.
“Hi,” she said, taking a step into my personal space. I welcomed it, seeing her eyes darken with what I assumed was a mutual desire.
“Ready?” I guided her to the truck and opened the door.
“As I’ll ever be.”
I chuckled at her response. She was perfect and had no idea. I shut the door, clenching my fist to get myself under control.
The five courses of dinner were an exercise in patience and denial for me, not Langley, whom I goaded into talking with two glasses of wine to ease her during the meal. The steak was a beautiful T-bone cut cooked medium rare of which I tasted nothing. I wanted to skip the crème brûlée, but when Langley shyly asked for it when the waiter asked for our preferences, I found it impossible to deny her polite request. It was a combination of luck, the taste of crisp burnt sugar on my lips, and the custard I choked down that Langley made it out of dinner still intact.
Intentionally, The Club was close by, so the drive was mere minutes when I parked in the lot behind the building. I wanted everything to be perfect and had my usual table was reserved. I looked forward to seeing how Langley viewed The Club through new eyes. My previous submissives were already familiar with the lifestyle and needed no introduction. Like Chelsea, they came for the thrill and to appease their curiosity. Most were established members engaged in the lifestyle and knew what they were getting into.
Langley was barely green-broke. It was easy to tell from the shy looks and timid behavior when I was in her personal space. I didn’t think she was unfamiliar with sex, but I seriously doubted this was familiar territory for her. Everyone had a varying level of kink; mine was primarily to feel in control. I didn’t want a brat, or a switch. I needed someone who was agreeable to giving in to me. I didn’t mind teaching, and a little feistiness was fine, but outright disrespect or demanding nagging wouldn’t work.
As I predicted, Langley’s eyes widened when we walked in. I nodded to Tally Fremanis who was speaking to another group of newbies. Tally acknowledged me, smiling when she saw my guest. She knew I could take things from here having been a long-standing member and a good friend of Jet’s.
“This place…” Her voice trailed off as I guided her to our waiting table. Couples engaged in touching and light play. Several women wore obvious collars, and I could see a man I knew outside The Club fingering his date under a table barely concealed.
I wet my lip ready to get her take on it. “Tell me what you think about it.”
“Well…it’s not a dance club.” She fussed in her seat.
“No. It’s a sex club,” I told her bluntly, addressing her unasked question.
“I’m sorry. D-did you say a sex club?” she whispered, scooting closer to me. Poor little lamb thought I would protect her, but I was the wolf in sheep’s clothing, waiting to debauch her if she would let me.
“It’s actually a club that engages in the BDSM lifestyle.”
Her hand covered her mouth, and her eyes grew big like saucers. “You mean like the movie?” Her whisper was louder this time, but there was no censure in her voice that I could tell.
“Not exactly.” I waved off the bartender, declining a drink offered from across the room. We had two glasses of wine at dinner and The Club’s limit was two, which I vehemently abided by even if I drank prior to coming. I felt we both needed clear minds to have this conversation. “I hope Hollywood isn’t your only frame of reference, darlin’.”
“I can’t say I’ve been to one before.”
“Is that good or bad?” My
plan was to take her around to see how she responded to all the things that interested me. So far she looked curious and I remained hopeful. I’m sure most first dates didn’t include a stop at a BDSM club, but I wasn’t a typical guy with vanilla needs. She was either on board or not, and if she wasn’t then I would take her home where she could curl up with her romantic comedies on Netflix and a pint of ice cream. However, if the night went well, I might engage my bright-eyed filly in a little bit of sane and consensual play.
“How does it work?” she asked, and I had no doubt before we left here tonight she would say yes to my offer, begging me please.
5
Sloan
Langley stepped inside the room where the darkness casted her in negative light, all dark with the glow coming from a single spot light blinding her shape from my view. Following her, I shut the door to the room, letting the lock slip with a low snick sound into place. I watched her walk to the center of the room. A couch filled the space, wide enough for two bodies to lie out on. It was velvet, a bitch to clean and a nightmare to replace, but I liked it newly decorated. I trusted Jet and the staff implicitly to keep the place spotless.
“This room, it’s amazing.” Langley trailed her hand down the curve of the couch. I came up behind her, letting my hands trace down her thin, almost boney shoulders under the fabric of her dress.
“I think there are better things to look at.” Leaning in, I spoke softly letting my voice drop on purpose, feeling her shudder under my hands. I clasped her wrist in my hand, counting her elevated heartbeat. She wasn’t scared, but her pulse fluttered under her skin in a rapid beat that was hard to count.
Bending her head upward, her neck looked elegant and long in the light. I wondered what thoughts were swirling inside her head. Soon I could demand she tell me, but for now I kept myself in check and waited for her to set the pace.
“What happens next?” She turned to me, chest heaving with labored breaths. I watched her breasts rise under the silk of her dark dress, and my skin tightened, holding back from touching her.
“I guess that depends on what you want, darlin’.” I imagined her on the edge, precariously close to falling into the abyss, and I wanted to take her hand and have her jump with me. I can’t do this for her, though, and the minutes stretched between us.
“Is this where I get on my hands and knees and crawl, or do you spank me first?” There’s no humor in her voice, but there’s no disgust either.
I seriously questioned myself for bringing her so quickly. I could have waited, but my selfishness and a month celibate clouded my judgment. “I think quite a bit happens before we get to that.”
She paused. “Do I call you master?”
I laughed. Her naivety was so fucking refreshing.
Her brow furrowed. “Oh? So that is part of it?”
“It can be, if you want it to. Generally speaking, we would establish rules first and a safe word, but I don’t think that’s necessary for tonight.” I moved a loose lock of her hair behind her ear, rubbing the softness between callouses on my fingers.
“Why don’t you just show me?” She shrugged.
I didn’t want to show her because I was afraid even the mild version of what I wanted would make her skittish. Instead I closed my eyes, briefly taking in my other senses. I was close enough that I could catch the wine on her breath, and I wondered if two glasses made her that courageous. Her slightly peachy scent and the tactile softness of her skin that was warm under my fingers was temptation.
Instead, I went with muted honesty.
“I don’t know if you’re being brave or have no clue what you’re asking.” This was unorthodox in how I approached these arrangements, but I thought that was the charm of Miss Langley Dawson. She was unexpected, and it kept me interested to see where this would go.
“Both, I think.” Her hands perched on her hips and her head cocked. Such a smart mouth on her and I blamed the white zinfandel.
“Must be the wine,” I muttered.
She surprised me by laughing out loud an awkward sound she covered with her hand.
“Should I take off my clothes or something?” she asked in a cheeky tone.
Or something…definitely came to mind. I shook my head, finally giving in to what I’d wanted all night. I walked around Langley to sit on the couch, and her head twisted following my movement. I hoped the space would calm my racing heart and dark fantasies but it didn’t when I ordered her to remove her clothes.
“Take off your dress, but leave you bra and panties on,” I told her, spreading my legs open and relaxing back against the cushions.
She stood still, hesitating, her mouth opened. I was betting she didn’t think I would take up her challenge. I reminded myself she was untaught, untrained, and had no idea that any other Dom would have punished her for not complying immediately by now.
I watched her throat bob nervously.
“Now?” A shaky shiver filled her voice, turning me on unexpectedly. Her hand rose to her shoulder but stopped short of pulling her dress down. Fear wasn’t something that got me off, but her hesitation to trust me with what I was asking her do after a mere handful of moments knowing each other made my cock thicken impossibly hard against my dress pants.
“We only have the room for an hour, so yes now,” I instructed her, patting my knee.
She took a step closer, almost within my reach. Her brow furrowed on a deep exhalation. She tugged the dress down her arms letting the fabric pool over the toes of her heeled feet and those ridiculous ankle bows that reminded me far too much of restraints and spreader bars. Silk caught for a brief second on her small pink nipples that had hardened in the air, turning upward on her full breasts. They looked like pink candy dots, and I wanted to suck them and see if they tasted sweet.
I raised my brow, and she stepped forward out of the convergence of silk on the floor. Her mound was covered in pale cotton and a lace panel that showed me blonde curls.
“Sloan?”
“Come, Langley.” I patted my knee again instructing her to sit on it. I held her up by her arms and kept my eyes on hers. Peaches. I can smell them on her skin, and the soft fuzziness reminded me how delicate she was and how easily she might bruise under rougher administrations. I kept that in mind. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to peruse her body fully under my gaze; it was that I found her to be much more than a body and a vessel for my dominant pursuits.
My hands ran up and down soft skin, calming the pebbles of chill and nerves she physically displayed.
“That feels good.” Her head swayed, and her chest lifted on a breath.
“I’d like it to feel better, wouldn’t you?” If touch were electric, I imagined sparks between the pads of my fingers and her skin.
“I-yes, please.”
“Good girl, Langley,” I murmured, letting my voice drop. “Lean forward.” She did as I asked, and I shifted her body half over mine on the velvet couch keeping her abdomen resting on my knee hooking an arm underneath her. She was going to squirm once I got my hands on her and my fingers inside her. I needed her secure for this exercise.
Her back faced me, and I shifted deeper into the sofa getting a secure hold on her. She made a mewling sound when my fingers petted over her mound still covered by damp cotton.
“Wet is good, remember that. I want you to always be wet for me. If you become mine your only job will be to wet for me. Understand?” I watched her head shift in a nod on the throw pillow she rested it on.
I smacked her rear end sharply. “Words, Langley. Use them.” The Dom in me emerged.
“Yes. I-I get it.” She panted under my hold. I cupped her cheek, feeling the heat of my smack on her skin, a pale shade of pink blooming.
“Good, darlin’.” Praise was important, especially because she was so new to this. Shifting her panties to the side with my right hand, I rubbed against her slick, plump clit. My finger came away from her center with a thin, shiny rope of her arousal that trailed out from her sweet sp
ot. I groaned thinking about impaling her at a later date, unfettered by the confines of The Club or even rubber condoms. I wanted her bare. When Langley signed my agreement, she would be tested and protected in other ways. For now, I wanted to give her something to look forward to saying yes to.
“This is mine, isn’t it beautiful?” I rubbed against her, pulling her arousal up to her back knot spreading it wide and thick.
“Y-yes.” I wanted her plaintive voice to call me master, or even sir, but there would be time for that later. I massaged her further, inserting my middle and ring fingers into her quivering walls. I was met with tight resistance only made easier breaching by how soaked she’d made my hand cupped under her. My other digits rested against her, pressing down.
“I want you soaked and thoroughly fucked by my fingers so that a man’s hand, my hand, never looks the same for you ever again.” I imagined her squeezing her eyes shut tightly, thinking the same thing that made me smile. My hands were large and rough from manual labor. They weren’t easy for her to take but it would prepare her for other things to come.
“Ugh…” Her moans got louder, and I worked her, slowly pushing in and pulling out, letting her juices run down between her legs to dampen my pants.
I finally added my pointer finger, stretching her wide with three fingers and letting my thumb rub her knot. “More baby?” I asked as her legs stiffened and her breathing got shallower. She grunted in response. My hand underneath her turned to cup her pussy and rub the pearl of her clit in slow circular strokes meant to draw out her orgasm into a slow downward spiral. Soft hairs covered her mound, and I spread her arousal through them—she’d smell herself for days no matter how many times she showered after tonight. I’d have her wax before I took her home, and then I’d brand her like this letting her know she was mine.
“Sloan.” The moan was hoarse escaping from her lips, and I knew her acquiescence in anything I asked of her tonight was a hairsbreadth away. Maybe it was manipulative, but I didn’t care because I would have this woman as mine on my ranch at my bidding.