“The girl dressed in white.”
This time it was my turn to lift my brows. I had never heard James chuckle. In the five years I had known him, I’d only seen him crack a smile a handful of times. It wasn’t that he wasn’t a friendly person, he was just a big intimidating man who wore all leather and looked like he belonged in a biker bar. For those who knew him though, they knew he was a big softy, protecting the members like they were family.
“You’re talking about Maggie Sweets!” he said, a mischievous twinkle in his eye.
“Sweets?” I asked. “Is that a nickname?”
“Nope! Here’s her driver’s license. It’s legit,” he said, handing over her open file.
Taking it from him and sitting on the edge of the desk, crossing my legs at the ankle, I flipped through the folder. Maggie Sweets, no middle name, twenty-six, lived in the next city over. Brown hair, blue eyes, and an intoxicatingly sweet smile. Closing the folder, I marched out of the room, back to the safety of my own office, James's laughter ringing through my ears, a radiant smile permeating my brain.
Before I could reach my safe haven, something caught my eye, pulling me in the opposite direction. I didn’t want to get too close, opting instead to watch from afar. Polly and Chase had found a couch nearby to sit and talk with other guests. Polly sat at Chase’s feet, and although you could tell she had wanted to watch her friend interact, she was being wonderfully obedient with her head down. I smiled for Chase; he deserved a good woman, and a good sub, and it looked as if Polly might fit the bill.
But that wasn’t what had caught my attention. Maggie stood, hands behind her back, boobs pushed up, looking at the Dom in front of her. I couldn’t hear the interaction, but it didn’t take long for me to realize that, although Maggie was attempting to be courteous, she was turning the offering Dom down, as was her right.
Master Sam was still in his probationary period with “The Hunt”. While on newcomer nights, you could ask anyone to play, if you were still within your ninety day period, we requested you take your time getting to know the current Doms and subs, and refrained from seeking out new potential members. Master Sam had obviously not gotten the memo. I didn’t know much about him, but I was a stickler for rules, and he was clearly breaking one.
Instead of stepping in, I decided to watch a little while longer. If, for some reason, I was misinterpreting the encounter between the two, and Maggie had approached him, I didn’t want to stick my nose where it didn’t belong. I could remind Master Sam of the rules again after the evening was over.
I watched for a moment longer before deciding to turn around and head back to my original destination, but when I saw Polly’s head snap up and glare at Master Sam, I knew something had to have been up. My eyes roamed from the floor, up Maggie’s toned legs and onto her torso. Her hands, although still behind her back, were tangled together and on the move. Her chin was pointed directly to the floor and, if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a slight quiver to her lips.
Master Sam was standing closer than he had been when I last looked, but what worried me was his demeanor. Feet at shoulder width apart, with his arms crossed over his chest, he stood with power radiating around him. His was in full Dom mode, and if it wasn’t for the fact that Maggie looked terrified, I may have stood back to watch.
Gliding forward, slipping on my figurative, Dom and owner, mask, I approached the unfolding scene in front of me with confidence and authority.
“Is there a problem, Maggie?” I asked in a calm genuine voice, so as not to startle the clearly upset girl in front of me.
“There’s no problem here, Master Jackson, is there, little kitty?” he asked Maggie.
Looking up from the floor, her eyes searched out mine. When they connected, my chest tightened. Not only did they hold a hint of fear, but they were also tinged with embarrassment. Without saying a word, she pleaded with me to help her and get her out of her current predicament.
“I asked you a question, kitty,” Master Sam snapped.
With one last glance at me, her eyes focused on the floor before she responded with a timid “no.”
“No, what?” Master Sam sneered, drunk on his power.
“No Mas--”
I couldn’t hear it. I couldn’t hear her call another man, Master. Cutting her off, I turned to Sam, “That’s enough, Sam. Can’t you see she isn’t interested? You know my rules, and if you can’t abide by them, please feel free to show yourself out.” My last few words came out on a growl.
“We were just having fun, weren’t we, kitty?” he said, addressing Maggie and ignoring me again.
Turning to Maggie and adjusting my stance, I slowly reached out to her tipping her chin up, for her eyes to meet mine.
“Do you want to play with Master Sam?” I asked in a soothing voice.
“No, Sir,” she whispered.
“Have you told him this already?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Thank you, little sub.” Turning back to Sam, I addressed him next. “In my club, if a new sub tells you no, or a sub you haven’t discussed safe words with tells you no or stop, you back off. Is that understood? You’re still under your ninety-days and one more infraction will result in an immediate dismissal from this club. Am I understood, Sam?”
My normal Dom voice had been described before as downright terrifying, and although I hadn’t expected Sam to be quivering in his boots, the anger radiating off of him was the last thing I had anticipated.
“Yes, Master Jackson,” he said through gritted teeth, before he took one menacing look at Maggie and stormed off towards the bar.
The change in Maggie was noticeable, as she let out a deep breath and slumped over a little, but in no time at all, she had righted herself, pulling herself together and donning her brave face.
Stepping in front of her, I searched her eyes for any lingering fear. What I saw though, made my dick leap back to attention. The overwhelming need to adjust myself was strong, but I pushed it aside and continued my assessment. She wasn’t afraid anymore, in fact the arousal I saw swirling in her eyes was undeniable. Her lids were hooded, and her breathing had gotten slightly shallower. It was a minute detail that most Doms wouldn’t have caught on to, but I prided myself in being able to read the most subtle of changes in my sub, and act accordingly.
“Would you like a rest, my little sub?” I asked in a throaty whisper.
“Y-yes, Sir,” she squeaked out, her voice catching on the simple syllable.
“I’m going to grab your hand, do you have any objections to coming with me into a private room?” I asked, this time loud enough for her friend to hear.
It took only a moment for her to decide, and I wasn’t disappointed when she spoke clearly this time, “No, Sir, no objections.”
Grabbing her hand and heading for the hallway leading to the private rooms, I couldn’t stop the smile that crept over my face. I was breaking one of my own rules but in that brief moment in time, with her soft, warm hand, cradled in mine, I didn’t fucking care.
Chapter Five
Maggie
Shit, shit, shit. What was I doing? I was going into a private, secluded room with, not only a very scary looking Dom, but also the owner of the club. A part of me was scared to my wits end, petrified that this was going to break me beyond repair, while the other part of me jumped up and down in anticipation.
Maybe I needed to be broken. I’d always heard that once you hit rock bottom, there was no where left to go but up, maybe that’s what was going to happen. This Dom, this Master Jackson, would tear me down and then I could start to rebuild. All of my life I had never been good enough, never smart enough. I wasn’t good at sports, I couldn’t act, and my drawing was deplorable. The only thing that ever kept me in high spirits was my music.
All throughout middle school and high school, I had been the envy of every singer on campus. The high school choir director came to my home prior to the start of my freshman year to listen to me sing, immediately decl
aring I would be in the advanced choir, The Madrigals. Even to this day, I could never stop the smile that appeared on my face when I thought about the memory. Overall, I had hated High School, the bullies tortured me for all four years, but the choir room had been my safe haven, my place to get lost in the melodies and harmonies of the world.
After high school, I couldn’t afford college, and as much as my director has tried to pull the strings, even he wasn’t able to get me a singing scholarship. I had lost the thing that had meant the most to me, and eight years later, I still felt like half of a person, well, a very large half.
Polly said I needed a kick in the pants, or at least something in my life to push me onward and upward, and maybe, just maybe, I had found it tonight.
I trailed along behind Master Jackson, his large, warm hand enveloping mine. Being behind him gave me the advantage to check him out a little more. As I thought before, he was quite a bit taller than me, even with my heels on. The tattoos that I had seen through his shirt carried around to his back and up to the hairline on his neck. Daring a peek down, I took in the beautiful ass I saw in front of me. Even in a pair of jeans, it was impressive, and I felt my face turned red in embarrassment. Thank God he couldn’t see me gawking.
When we approached the closed door at the end of the hallway, my heart leaped up into my throat. I wasn’t so naive that I didn’t know what these rooms were for, but I had no idea what his intentions might have been. A small part of me contemplated turning around and bolting back the way we had come, but my hand was still wrapped in his, making that idea a moot point.
I thought he would open the door and usher me in, but apparently he had other plans. Turning suddenly, and dropping my hand, he looked at me, confusion marring his features.
“If you decide to go into this room with me, little sub, we will conform to some basic rules of playing. Are you ok with that?”
“Yes.” I nodded.
“Yes, what, little sub?” he asked.
“Yes, Sir?”
“Good. While inside, I expect you to address me as Sir. Do not speak unless you are asked a direct question, and once I’ve settled you in place, you’re not to move without permission. Do you think you can do that?” he asked me.
Did I think I could do that? The instructions had been pretty basic. No talking unless responding, no moving, and only call him Sir. It didn’t seem too difficult. Suddenly, though, my fears got the better of me. Although I had only Polly’s experience and an e-reader full of books to rely on, I knew that a safe word was something I also needed to have.
Almost as if reading my thoughts, Master Jackson grabbed my chin gently and tilted my head to meet his eyes. “We won’t do anything, to start, other than talk, once we get inside. If you start to feel uncomfortable, please feel free to tell me. Do you understand?”
His tone wasn’t condescending, in fact, I found his voice comforting. “Yes, Sir. I understand, and I can follow your rules,” I said, a little more confidence in my voice.
“Good girl. Go ahead in, little sub,” he said, opening the door and motioning for me to enter.
I took a moment to adjust myself to the lighting. It was dimmer than the brightly lit hallway, and it took a second for the room to come into full view. Once it did, I looked around, taking in the scenery in front of me.
As was the great room, my expectations were greatly different than the reality of this room. Clean was probably the best way to describe the space. Almost as if I blended in, everything around me was white. The four-poster bed, made of a light beachy type wood, graced the left side of the room, adorned with a white canopy and equally pristine sheets. The walls held pictures of beach scenes, prompting a more serene environment. The only bold color that could be found came from the blood red drapes lining the windows and the assortment of toys hanging from the right wall.
Everything that I had read about was hanging up for the world to see. There were things I could pick out and knew what they were, and then there were items I couldn’t even begin to guess what they were, or what they were used for. Underneath the implements stood a dresser with closed drawers, and a few contraptions I wasn’t quite sure about.
Behind me, I heard Master Jackson enter, and shut the door. Turning around slowly, and seeing his dominating stature, I felt the insane urge to drop to my knees and kneel at his feet. The overwhelming need to please him was foreign to me, and the internal debate raging inside me threatened to overtake my senses.
Calling on my yoga training, I took a deep breath, looked to the floor, and as gracefully as I could, dropped to my knees. My pride screamed at me from the inside, yelling that I was too good of a person to be kneeling to another, but the lust roaring inside me drowned out the fickle argument.
I wanted to look up at him, to see if my display of submission had pleased him, but I knew some of the rules to playing, and unless specifically noted, it was customary to look down. Taking another calming breath, I relaxed into my heels and placed my hands palm down on the top of my thighs.
Without a word, Master Jackson walked around me slowly, deliberately. My curious brain wanted to turn with him, to follow his boot clad feet, but I held myself still, awaiting his first command. When his feet returned into my peripheral vision, I latched onto them and followed them like a hawk after his prey. When he stopped in front of me, I had to fight the urge to look up at him. This feeling was all so new and exhilarating.
“Very well done, my little sub. You look beautiful on your knees,” he cooed.
The praise in his voice filled my chest with a feeling I had never experienced before. A fullness that I couldn’t describe blanketed around me, engulfing me in heat. Master Jackson was proud of my actions.
Remembering that I wasn’t to speak unless directly asked a question, I refrained from responding, the result thrilled me further.
“You remembered the no speaking rule. I am impressed, and believe me, it takes a lot for me to be impressed. Please stand, Maggie.”
Dropping to my knees had been a lot easier and more graceful than standing back up. In my short time down there, my knees had started aching, and my feet had fallen asleep. I imagined that skinnier women looked a lot more lovely than I did in that moment, but I was determined to try my best. Sitting up from my position, I lifted one foot to plant flat on the floor, and used my knee as leverage for my arm to hoist the rest of my body to standing. Swaying a little, Master Jackson gripped my arms and steadied me in my spot.
“Easy, My sweets, take your time,” he comforted me.
When I felt righted with the Earth, I clasped my hands in front of me, and stared down at the ground. I was mortified that someone had had to help me stand. You never realize how clumsy or embarrassing you might look when going from a sitting position to standing. I could feel the tears once again clamoring to fall from my eyes, but somehow I held them back. Once again, my size had the ability to cripple any sort of self-confidence I had allowed myself to feel with my display of submission.
“Maggie, please look at me,” Master Jackson said, tilting my chin up again. “I’m going to ask you some questions and I need you to be honest with me. Can you do that?”
“Yes, Sir,” I responded immediately. Why I was trusting him so early in the game, I wasn’t sure, but I did. I felt an odd sort of peace in his presence.
“Firstly, why do you look like you’re going to cry?” he asked, my chin still resting in his palm, his thumb rubbing over my cheek.
I didn’t want to answer. It was embarrassing. But seeing the look in his eyes, the empathy reflected back in them, made my tongue unnaturally loose.
“I don’t look like the other girls, and I can’t move like them,” I whispered, not telling him everything but hopefully enough to pacify his curious nature. No matter how much serenity I felt under his gaze, I couldn’t and wouldn’t tell him everything.
“Thank you for being honest. Come sit on the bed with me,” he said, motioning towards the welcoming structure.
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br /> With legs made of jello, I slowly made my way to the comfortable looking mattress, and deposited myself next to him after he had sat down. Our legs touched, sending a little shock of electricity running through me. Heat crept up between my legs, and my cheeks flushed with the excess warmth. It was an odd sensation to feel everything so strongly, after only knowing this man a matter of hours.
“Maggie, have you ever subbed before, in any capacity?” he asked, getting right down to the questions at hand.
“No, Sir,” I whispered.
“How did you know kneeling would be proper?” he asked, curiosity lacing his question. He didn’t sound accusatory, merely ponderous.
“My friend Polly is a member here, and I’ve read a lot of books. Sir.” I responded, hoping my answer didn’t get Polly in trouble. I knew how much privacy was upheld at a place like this.
“I see.” He mumbled more to himself than to me. He paused a moment, deep in thought before he looked back at me. “Maggie, I need you to understand, that this lifestyle is not a book, it’s not a movie. It’s real life. Are you sure it’s something you want to explore?” I couldn’t gauge the expression on his face. It was almost as if he was giving me an out, but I didn’t really want one.
“Maybe, if it was with you.” The words were out of my mouth before my internal filter had kicked in. If I thought the embarrassment at trying to stand had been bad, this was a million times worse. I covered my face in my hands, willing the Earth the swallow me up.
“Don’t turn away from me, little sub.” His voice was commanding, but held a tinge of amusement.
Looking back up at him, his eyes were, indeed, dancing around with merriment. My answer had pleased him. The relief felt immediate.
“Again, I appreciate your honesty. If we are going to play, we need to establish some rules, though. I understand you’re new to the scene, but I am a very demanding Dom, and I expect you to follow my rules to the absolute best of your ability. If you don’t think you can do this, please tell me now and we won’t go any farther.”
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