Brat and Master

by Sindra van Yssel

  I was being foolish to think I could have anything different.

  She spotted Callie across the way. Callie wasn’t getting any male attention for a change. Callie had cried on her shoulder a few times; Amanda thought the girl still had the hots for Vincent, and Vincent was very taken. Callie definitely owed her a cuddle.

  Maybe Jeremy will think that’s hot. As soon as she thought it, she was annoyed at herself. I don’t play those games either. I can’t believe he’s gotten to me like this when he doesn’t even want to kiss me.

  “Hey, Callie,” she said.

  Callie smiled. “Hi, Amanda. Hot scene you did over there.”

  Amanda grinned and tried not to blush. “Thanks. Mind helping me decompress?”

  “Um, sure,” Callie said. “That hot dom you were playing with just walked out of the club. Everything okay?”

  “Oh, yeah. I’ll be fine.” Aren’t I always?

  There were couches in the gallery and comfy chairs with signs over them that said, Aftercare has priority. As far as she was concerned, this qualified, even if Callie hadn’t been playing. They could still hold each other. If a dom and sub came over, they’d move. And if some dom came over and thought two girls looked cute together, and wanted to play with them both—no, on second thought, she’d let Callie have the fun.

  Chapter Three

  Jeremy walked out into the cool air of early spring. The leaves still weren’t on the trees yet, but there were a few daffodils blooming on a strip near the edge of the road. He walked out to his car, missing Cheri.

  You should have fucked her.

  He didn’t believe Cheri was talking to him, even if his thoughts came in her voice. She’d always supported him in whatever he wanted to do. It wasn’t her holding him back. It was himself and his own need for fidelity. Having sex with another woman felt wrong, even though his mind told him it was right. There was no reason he shouldn’t have some sexy fun with a willing woman he was definitely attracted to. No reason to deny himself the pleasure of coming with a fellow human being rather than his lonely fist. No reason not to cuddle with a soft woman with delicious, yielding curves. Cheri would have wanted him to move on. But he found it difficult while thinking of her watching from above.

  His cock had other ideas. It was hard and ready to go. Amanda had roused him more than any woman he’d met since Cheri. She’d enjoyed her spanking and had responded to his touch. We could play together nicely. Already she had broken through a barrier. He knew he could do another scene like that. He could touch a woman intimately. Kiss her. God, Amanda’s lips had felt good, making him want more. She wanted more too. But he’d held back.

  Probably because I’m an idiot. He opened the door of his sedan and slid into the driver’s seat. For a moment he was tempted to go in and find Amanda. But her words about another scene bothered him. He didn’t want to see her play with someone else right now. He had no right to feel possessive. He had no claim on her, and she had none on him. But one thing Cheri had taught him was that emotions that didn’t make a lot of sense still had to be dealt with.

  He started the engine and then pointed the car toward home. He lived in Baltimore, over an hour’s drive away. It seemed like enough distance.

  When he got home, he showered. He was still on edge. Turned on. He was tempted to deal with that in the shower, to soap himself up and come right then and there, but he decided not to. He was feeling more alive than he’d felt in years, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to take the edge off yet. He had hardly looked at a woman since Cheri. And now he’d done more than look. A part of him that had lain dormant was stirring. He wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not, but he knew it wouldn’t be put to sleep by jacking off in the shower.

  Wearing only a pair of loose flannel pants, he picked up his clothes from the bathroom floor to take them to the hamper. A card fluttered out. Amanda’s. He picked it up and looked at it. I should get one of these made. It was an obvious way to try to make further contact with potential partners. The world had changed from when he’d been active in the scene. It wasn’t just computers and such that had changed it, either. People were more accepting of alternative sexuality in general, although he didn’t harbor any illusions that tying a girl up and flogging her would ever become generally socially acceptable. He’d been in a dozen clubs and had never seen anything like the fire play that had been going on at Excess or Amanda’s “poi” floggers.

  I need an education. And I wouldn’t mind trying out a pair of those floggers, either. He fired up his computer and set the card next to it. Amanda might have some good suggestions for who was making the best floggers these days. He hadn’t bought one since he and Cheri started, back when they did more public play. They’d found what Cheri responded to, and he’d never seen any need to get anything new. In the end, BDSM was about the people, not the equipment. The toys were a means to an end. But still, he was curious to give some new things a try.

  He sat down and started searching. I should have finished out the evening at the club. He knew why he hadn’t. It hadn’t been that what was going on between him and Amanda had been wrong. It was that it was too right. He’d wanted to kiss her. To make love to her.

  He barely knew her.

  He shrugged after half a dozen Web sites and opened his e-mail. He typed a short note to Amanda, asking her the best place to find well-crafted floggers of the new-fangled variety. He reread his e-mail, trying to decide if it struck the right tone. Then he typed, Would you be interested in getting together for another scene? underneath his question. Of course she’d say no. If he’d wanted a repeat, he should have stuck around. But at least he could make her feel desired. He suspected she’d answer his question regardless. From what he’d seen at the demo, she was a person who simply enjoyed helping others.

  Cheri was like that, although it had gotten narrowed over time, until the only person she cared about helping was him. He didn’t want that to happen again. Some of what had attracted him to Cheri in the first place had gotten left behind. He felt guilty for thinking that because Cheri had been wonderful and utterly devoted. He’d loved giving her what she needed, and she’d given him plenty in return. But he couldn’t—and didn’t want to—replicate that. Maybe it’s better this time to play the field. To seek for bottoms, not slaves. Polyamory, rather than monogamy, although that meant so much more than playing with multiple people. It meant letting himself have emotions for them. Amanda had stirred something in him he hadn’t expected. He wasn’t falling in love. But he cared. Maybe I’m not capable of playing with someone without an emotional connection. Without love for the other person. If so, that wasn’t a bad thing, or at least not a weakness of character. If it means I get hurt, so be it. I’ll try to stop anyone else from getting hurt in the process.

  In any case, in the unlikely event Amanda says yes, I wouldn’t mind playing with her again. This time, if she offers more, I’ll take it. He hit Send.

  Then he walked over to his piano, seated himself on the wooden bench in front of it, and lost himself in Chopin for a while.

  * * * *

  Amanda woke up when Snowball, her cat, swished his tail against her face. Amanda sneezed and picked up the big white ball of fur and set him back on the floor where he belonged, intending to roll over and get more sleep. It was way too early to be up after a late night at the club. But once she’d gone to all that effort, she was wide-awake, and two minutes later, she got out of bed.

  “You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” she asked Snowball as she fetched a can of food from the drawer above the kitchen counter. Snowball meowed innocently in response.

  She knew she probably shouldn’t have a cat. She wasn’t very allergic to Snowball, but there was no doubt she felt stuffier at home than she did when she was out. But the cat was the one constant in her life. He was alternately toppish and indifferent, like most cats, but he was always there for her, and when she was sick or depressed, he curled his warm body against hers and stayed until sh
e felt better. He might be a selfish little beast, but he was hers, and he wasn’t going anywhere.

  She scooped the cat food into Snowball’s bowl and set it on the floor. Snowball feigned indifference, walked past the food as if on a mission, then slowly circled his way back and buried his nose in it.

  “You’re not fooling anyone, you know.” Getting no response, Amanda walked over to her desk and opened her laptop. Callie had been great to snuggle with, but she had a feeling there would be a letter waiting for her, telling her more about Callie’s man troubles. As soon as the computer connected to the wireless, she started working her way through her e-mails, hoping to find a job offer.

  Hi, u r hot. Saw u at the club. Let me know if u want to flog me.

  Delete. That was the problem with handing out cards indiscriminately, but if people had questions about the demo, she wanted to answer them. It would be nicer to be called hot by someone who was willing to spell out words. The fact was, she didn’t feel very hot lately. She’d had to bleach out the blue-black hair, as well as the little pink stripe she had down the middle, in an attempt to make herself look better for job interviews. Now her hair was the mousiest shade of brown ever, and she was probably lucky the bleached-out black hadn’t turned a brassy red. She knew she wasn’t walking as proud or carrying herself as well.

  She opened the next one and read Jeremy’s mail.

  Another scene? The one they did had felt awesome, and she wanted to repeat that experience. But afterward he’d seemed so distant, and if it hadn’t been for Callie, she’d have suffered a major drop. Giving herself over to someone was intense, and with Jeremy it had been more so than usual. She’d wanted to be held more. She’d wanted to be kissed more. The feeling that something was missing had lingered when she’d come home.

  No thank you, she typed and then fetched a couple of addresses from her bookmark folder to answer his question about where to get floggers. The idea of him with a flogger in each hand, swinging them against her back and her bottom, made her shift in her chair. Maybe he’d wrap it around to tease her breasts or her pussy with the tips. She squirmed some more. When he’d spanked her, he’d been so skilled, so, well, masterful. He knew how to stroke her, keep her on edge, and make her come. She erased the message and replaced it with I’ll only tell you if you use them on me.

  Then she deleted that one too.

  What I need is some good exercise, to give me an endorphin rush I can come down from without all the emotions of another scene with Jeremy. Then when I’m done, I’ll answer him. Time to go biking.

  She reached out to close the laptop down without answering, and then stopped. What the hell. What do I have to lose? She typed, Do you bike? I’m going biking in Legion Park, if you want to join me. I’ll be there in forty-five minutes. Maybe all he wanted was a kinky scene, but she wanted closure sooner than that. She had no idea where he lived, but she could toss her bike on her car and be at Legion Park in fifteen minutes. It was a nice ride, not too hilly, the perfect thing to stretch her legs. And work the kinks out in more ways than one. She got up and changed into her biking shorts and top, made of stretching material that breathed well and wicked the sweat away from her body.

  A few minutes later, she glanced at her e-mail. He might not even be awake. But there was a reply.

  I’ll be there, but it’ll take me an hour. Leaving now. Wait for me.

  Her heart sped up. Wait for me. Being given an order outside of the context of a BDSM scene ought to have pissed her off. Instead it turned her on. She’d not left him any other way to contact her than e-mail, and so he couldn’t go back and forth on the time with her if he wasn’t able to make it in forty-five minutes. It made a sort of sense.

  Okay, Jeremy. I’ll wait. She wheeled the bike out of her small apartment, down a flight of stairs, and out to the back of her Volkswagen Beetle. She hoped it didn’t choose today to break down; the check-engine light had been on for a while, and she didn’t have money to get anything fixed yet. In a few minutes she was on the road, driving to Legion Park.

  She didn’t have to wait long, as it turned out. She was five minutes later than her forty-five estimate, and he was five minutes early on his hour. The long black sedan he stepped out of looked almost new. He was in blue jeans and a tight black T-shirt. The muscles of his upper arm stretched the sleeve. He didn’t have a bike carrier; instead he’d lashed the bike to the back bumper with rope. Someone is secure about his knots. The thought made her shiver. I was going to train a newbie dom to suit my needs. I should run, now.

  Instead, she hopped on her bike and met him in the parking lot while he was still untying his bike. “Hi.”

  “Hello, Amanda,” he said. “Good to see you again.”

  “You too.” Some guys would have used the greeting as a chance to connect, to hug and maybe even to get a kiss or cop a feel. Not Jeremy, apparently, who was busy untying the knots that held his bike fast. She was vaguely disappointed.

  Then he turned to her and stroked the side of her face. It was somehow more intimate than if he’d pulled her in for a hug, because it was so unexpected and deliberate. He seemed so intense. All she could do was stare at him, not breathing, while her heart hammered.

  “Very nice to see you again,” he said.

  “Yes.” She breathed.

  “I have to warn you.”

  “Yes?”

  “I’m horribly out of practice.”

  “You’re remembering fine, Sir. That spanking was wonderful. Your touch—electric.” Her nipples had tightened into two little points as if connected on wires to where he touched her.

  “I meant biking. Haven’t done it in ages.” He strapped on a green helmet.

  “Oh!” Right, that’s what we’re here to do. The moment passed, and she felt able to move again. Hell, she felt like fleeing from the intensity of his touch and gaze. Every touch and every look had the full force of his personality behind them. He seemed so much more focused than most people. “Well, you’ll get it. You’re fit. And it’s like, um, like…”

  “Like riding a bicycle?” he asked, his face unreadable.

  ”Exactly like that,” she agreed.

  He laughed, and she laughed.

  “My tires are inflated. I still had my pump. Let’s go. The worst that can happen is that I embarrass myself in front of a beautiful woman.”

  Amanda blushed and then looked around. “Where is she?”

  “You’ll find her,” he said. “Do you always shy away from compliments?”

  “Sir?”

  He didn’t answer, and she didn’t need him to because she knew what he meant. She wasn’t sure why she did that. Maybe I don’t think people are being sincere. Either way, she didn’t want to deal with it. She turned her bike and pedaled toward the path. Let him chase after me.

  JEREMY WATCHED AMANDA zoom off. The little sub was playing games, first by asking him to meet her in forty-five minutes, then by riding away. On the other hand, she was definitely interested, and interesting. The way she reacted to being called beautiful when he thought it was simply the honest truth indicated to him that she wasn’t as comfortable with herself as he’d first thought. It brought out the side of him that wanted to nurture a woman.

  There was no time to spend thinking about it. He mounted his bike and started pedaling, wobbling through the parking lot. Amanda headed to a path that wound into the trees. Even though the trees were mostly bare, she’d be out of sight if he delayed, and that would limit his options.

  Why am I here? This isn’t BDSM play. This is a date. And it’s a date where we can’t even talk.

  Amanda was getting farther away with every second. He leaned in and focused on the road, pedaling faster, shifting gears to try to find the right one. The pedaling was instinctive, but the shifting was not, and he wasted a lot of energy while his quarry glided effortlessly forward. He saw her glance over her shoulder and grin.

  He never could resist a challenge. He shifted up, leaned forward, and pedaled
harder.

  Slowly, he closed the gap. She looked over her shoulder again and sped up. His legs were aching. He was used to walking and working out, but this put strain on a different set of muscles. He still wasn’t going to lose. He kept closing until at last he pulled up even with her.

  “Nice day,” she said brightly.

  “Nice day,” he agreed through gritted teeth. As he pulled slightly ahead, he noticed she had pulled the zipper of her hot-pink top down, displaying a generous amount of cleavage, which was shining with sweat. She might sound cheery, but she’d had to put her back into it too. He grinned. Not a bad view, either.

  She locked eyes with him for a moment and then turned away to look at the path ahead. There were trees all around them, and even though they were bare of leaves, he couldn’t see anything but nature. He let her pass, then followed her through the woods, feeling he could relax some. The cool wind whipped past his face.

  “Having fun?” she shouted back at him.

  He discovered he was. “Yes!”

  She got up in the stirrups and shook her ass at him, and then sped up. He did the same. He knew now that he could keep up with her, no matter what she did. He’d had to get into practice and reacquaint himself with the equipment. It’s a lot like BDSM that way. I need to trust my instincts.

  And his instincts told him that Amanda was worth chasing after—both literally and figuratively. She was so totally different from Cheri, who for so long had been the epitome of what he wanted. Cheri had never needed to be chased. She had simply wanted to be told she was pleasing, and other than that, she strove to be as submissive as she possibly could. She wasn’t bratty and had no interest in trying to top. It had been very simple with Cheri, and she would never be replaced in his heart. He wasn’t sure as a top he could put up with a steady diet of Amanda, but he was interested in finding out. She still gave him toppish pleasure—and the brat in her made his heart race.

  I can’t continue with what I had. Cheri is gone. She can’t be replaced. But I can start all over.