Her Sir

by Megan Slayer

  EVERNIGHT PUBLISHING ®

  www.evernightpublishing.com

  Copyright© 2018 Megan Slayer

  ISBN: 978-1-77339-631-6

  Cover Artist: Jay Aheer

  Editor: Karyn White

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  WARNING: The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in reviews.

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and places are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  DEDICATION

  For everyone who can’t hide their true selves.

  For JPZ. I can be myself with you.

  HER SIR

  Megan Slayer

  Copyright © 2018

  Chapter One

  All I want is to play and be loved… Andi sat on the floor and rested her head on Sir’s knee. She loved being at his feet and having her hair caressed. Sir knew just how to touch her to make her tingle all over. The temporary collar bit into her skin, but she didn’t mind. She’d rather know that everyone who saw her understood she belonged to Sir. The boning on her corset dug into her ribs, but she refused to complain. The corset and boots look pleased Sir. She tried to keep still, but the bells attached to her nipple clamps still chimed each time she breathed. But Sir continued to stroke her hair, so he must not have been bothered by the slight noise.

  She turned her attention to the sub on the St. Andrew’s cross. The woman strained against the cuffs as the Dom dribbled wax over her nude body. Her yelps and moans echoed in the playroom. The scent of leather hung in the air.

  Andi’s skin sizzled, and the clips bit deeper into her skin. The tingles in her belly spread through her body. She fought the urge to squirm. Her pussy creamed, and her nipples strained within the clips. She wanted to be in the sub’s place, on display and covered in wax. When she shifted her hips just a tad, the plug jostled in her ass. If she had a toy in her pussy, she’d be thrilled. Having Sir inside her would be the best, but he wouldn’t fuck her. Play and sex were to be kept separate.

  Sir continued to soothe her as he toyed with her hair.

  She pressed her knees together. A shudder wracked her body. She excelled at holding her excitement in check, but the task was harder tonight.

  “What do you want, girl?” Sir asked. “Tell me.”

  She shivered and averted her gaze. He’d given her permission to watch the scene, but not to look at him. “I want to play, Sir.”

  “How?” He petted her hair. “Speak freely.”

  “I want to play, Sir. To be covered in your wax.” She rubbed her cheek on his thigh. No matter how hard she struggled to keep her excitement controlled, he knew how to encourage her. She knew down to her soul she needed the pain and release at his command, but her friend Kayna’s words still echoed in her ears. You’re not normal. You shouldn’t be abused. You should get out of that club. He’s dangerous.

  Part of her believed her friend. Her boyfriend, Trey, wanted her to be his alone. The agreement with Sir didn’t involve sex or love. It involved trust. Sir wasn’t in a position to love her—so he claimed. The truth sucked, but he hadn’t lied. Still, she wanted to believe she could change his mind.

  She didn’t love Trey the way she did Sir, but Trey wouldn’t even try to understand what she needed. He agreed with Kayna that her time at the Underground club was spent being abused.

  “Do you?”

  Another shivered ripped through her. She had to pay attention to what Sir had said. “Yes. Please, Sir?” She needed to play and have his hands on her body.

  “On your knees.” He stood and wrapped the leash around his hand. He tugged on the chain. “Girl.”

  She straightened her back and stuck out her chest. She balanced on her knees and clasped her hands behind her. The clips pulled on her nipples. The little bells chimed again. The pain from the clips and the plug stretching her added to her excitement.

  “Good girl. Forward.” He tugged on the leash again. “Crawl.”

  Andi rested on her hands and knees, then bowed her head enough to see where she was going and to keep her hair out of her eyes. She made her way across the room and stayed behind him. Her nerve endings were on fire. She stole glances forward to see where she was going. The adventurous streak within her widened, and her nipples ached from the clips pulling on her skin. She groaned, unable to hide the noise.

  Sir led her to another St. Andrew’s cross in the middle of the main playroom. He allowed her to pass him and awarded her with a hard slap on her ass. Fire licked her from within. He threaded his fingers into her hair and tipped her head back. “Stand.”

  She scurried to her feet but kept her head down. The collar dug into her collarbone and clinked when she moved. She rested her back against the cross and stretched her arms out. Anticipation slid through her veins. Her breath quickened. Soon she’d get what she wanted—his hands and crop on her skin. If she was good, she’d get the wax, too.

  “Good girl.” He attached her wrist cuffs, then the ones around her ankles to the cross. “Tug.” He tipped her gaze. “Well? Are you comfortable?”

  She struggled against the restraints. Her anticipation and excitement ratcheted up. She loved being open to him and everyone else watching her. “Thank you, Sir. I’m good.” She had enough play to wriggle, but not enough to get away—just the way she liked.

  “Good girl,” he murmured.

  She watched his face for a split-second. She’d fantasized about looking into his eyes while he fucked her. Would he stick to the missionary position like Trey, or use her in every possible manner? Oh God. She wanted him to fuck her everywhere and any way he wanted. He made her tingle all over and her nerve endings come alive. The agreement came to mind—her body belonged to him, but sex was out of the question. Fuck. She wanted him and not the toy in her ass. Why couldn’t he just fuck her? They’d done everything else, except sex. Damn it.

  “Girl?” His brows rose. “Do you have something to say?”

  “No, Sir.” Shit. She’d been caught. Although … misbehaving meant she’d be punished… “Yes, Sir. Thank you, Sir. I’ve been bad. I watched you. I’ve fantasized about you.” I’m not sure what to do. I can’t handle loving you and not being loved in return.

  “Naughty, girl.” He frowned. “I’d think you wanted to have all these people watch me punish you. You want that cane on your ass, don’t you?” He crooked one brow. “Safeword?”

  “Purple.” She notched her chin in the air. She’d already defied him by looking at him and being chatty. She might as well go all in and earn more delicious punishment. “I don’t want to use it.” She flexed her hands in the cuffs, making the chains jangle. The chilly air kissed her pussy, and her nipples ached. “I want you.”

  His expression didn’t change, but he tipped his head slightly. “I see.” He adjusted the cross, leading her back a bit. Anyone in the playroom could see her, and being so exposed turned her on.

  “Thank you, Sir.” She wished he’d used the blindfold. Then she couldn’t memorize every inch of him or know what he was about to do next. “Punish me.” She tensed as she listened to the whispers from the audience. Did they like what they saw? Were they turned on by her? Did they want to be in her place?

  “Aren’t you eager?” He picked up a riding crop and twirled the item in his fingers. “Who does the naughty girl belong to?”

  “You, Sir.” Always.

  “How many?” He drew circles on her bare hip with the smooth end of the crop.

  “I’ve been bad. Ten,” she said. She braced herself for the swats. Where would he leave his
marks? She whimpered. “Please?”

  “You have been naughty.” He spanked the tops of her breasts, swatted her belly through the fabric of her corset, then moved to her inner thighs. He varied the intensity, going easier on her breasts, then harder along her legs. The scent of his cologne wrapped around her and soothed her, but not much.

  She yelped and winced as the pain added to her pleasure. Endorphins rushed through her system, and she panted. “Thank you, Sir. So good.” She trembled. “More.”

  “Greedy.” He drew the leather tip across her pussy lips. “You’re wet, naughty girl.” He abandoned the crop, then turned his attention to the candles and oil. Sir moved the table from the previous play session over to where she waited on the cross. While she strained against the cuffs, he rubbed oil into her exposed skin. His eyes flashed, but she couldn’t tell if he was turned on.

  She gasped when he lit the match, then the two white candles. He moved the bucket of ice closer to the edge of the table and dampened a towel in the water. He held one of the white candles above her chest.

  Andi sucked in a ragged breath. No matter how much she wanted to brace herself for the wax, she knew better. She belonged to him, and he’d mark her when he was ready.

  “You belong to me.” He dribbled wax over her breasts.

  Her nipples tightened, and her belly quivered. She clenched and unclenched her hands. Yes, Sir.”

  “All mine to decorate.” He dipped more wax onto her breasts, then across her nipples.

  She grunted and gritted her teeth. The heat and pinpricks of pain were so good. She loved the wax on her skin and the tingle in her belly. “Thank you, Sir.” She tried in vain to dodge the wax.

  He worked in silence, covering her breasts, then upper thighs in wax. He overwhelmed her. The wax singed her skin, but not enough to cause damage. The flame on the candle flickered, bathing his hand in warm yellow light.

  Her excitement ticked up a couple more notches and centered in her pussy. Her legs trembled. She silently thanked Sir for tilting the cross backwards enough to support her. She whimpered and shut her eyes.

  “Sir.” Her head lolled. She couldn’t take much more. She floated as the orgasm built within her. She needed to come. Needed to be fucked. She cried out and shuddered. “Oh, my God. Oh, my God,” she murmured. “So good. So fucking good. Need to…”

  The rest of the world faded away. The only thing that mattered was Sir and the way he made her feel.

  “Girl.” He stopped dripping the wax on her inner thighs. He trailed his hands over her hips, then up her sides to her outstretched arms. He rubbed his nose along her cheek. “Are you ready to come?”

  “Yes, Sir.” She panted. “Please?” She opened her eyes. He stood so close, she could’ve kissed him.

  He raked his nails over the tops of her breasts, adding pain in a new sensation. He removed the wax. “Come for me. Let go.”

  She moaned and embraced the climax. Her head swam, and she could’ve sworn she was flying. She sagged against the cuffs. Tears streamed down her cheeks. “Thank you, Sir,” she managed. She couldn’t think straight.

  Sir unlocked the cuffs, then scooped her into his arms. He carried her across the playroom to his private room. Once he had her alone, he removed the clips and plug in her ass. She wobbled on her feet. He draped a robe over her body, covering her in warm softness. He held her on his lap and petted her hair again.

  “Thank you, Sir.” She rested her head on his shoulder. She’d miss the way he took care of her after a scene and while she came down from the high. She wanted to stay in his embrace forever. To be shielded and protected by her Sir. Most of all, she wanted to be loved. She loved him down to her marrow, but Sir didn’t love her. She was a plaything.

  “You’re thinking,” he said. “Talk to me.”

  She didn’t want to. If she kept her mouth shut, she wouldn’t implode the relationship with Sir. But she wanted nothing more than to be honest. She needed something from Sir, and if he couldn’t give her what she needed, then she wanted verification, so she could move on.

  “Andi.”

  Shit. He’d used her name. He meant business. “Sir.” She blew out a heavy breath and summoned her courage. She could withstand the sting of his cane, but not the truth.

  “We’re not in the scene any longer. Talk. What’s wrong?” he asked. She tensed. He knew her too well. He brushed her hair from her face, then tipped her gaze to meet his. “Andi?”

  “Do you love me?” she blurted. “I need to know.”

  “We never discussed moving the relationship to the next level.” Sir crinkled his brow. “We agreed to keep emotions out of this pairing.”

  “That’s true.” She sat up and faced him. “But do you love me?” Then she’d have an out with her boyfriend. She wanted Sir, not Trey. Yes, Trey was from a good family and she’d have a secure future, but he didn’t love her. He loved publicity and attention. Sir fulfilled her needs and gave her the warmth she desired.

  “Andi, what do you want from me?” he asked. “You know what we decided. I’m not here to fall in love. I’m here to do a job. You wanted my services.”

  Did the man have emotions? How could he keep a straight face when she was falling apart? “Do you love anyone?” Her voice cracked, and her breath caught in her throat. “Be honest. Is it possible?”

  “I’ve been in love, and it’s possible.” He nodded once and held her hands. “But it’s complicated.”

  “And that person isn’t me.”

  “I don’t do commitments outside of the club.” He rubbed his thumbs across the back of her hands. “I prefer to keep everything separate.”

  He hadn’t really answered her question. “I thought so.” She closed the robe, shrugged out of his grasp, then stood. “Then we need to end this relationship.”

  “We do?” He didn’t flinch. “Explain.”

  “Yes.” If she didn’t stick up for herself right now, she’d never tell him how she felt. “This has to end.”

  “Tell me why.”

  He hadn’t asked a question. His words were a demand. Wasn’t that like Sir to expect answers? “I’m in a relationship outside of the club.” But I want you to change my mind.

  “You’re permitted to have one or a few. You’re not my slave.”

  He didn’t understand. “To give him my full attention and love, I need to break off this pairing.” Or have a damn good reason to stick around.

  “Does he treat you well?” Sir asked.

  “He does.” Her boyfriend knew about the scenes and complained they were abuse. She disagreed, but Trey insisted he knew better. She was a better fit in Sir’s world than with Trey’s family, but neither side seemed to want her.

  “He understands your needs?”

  Not at all. Trey only wanted missionary style sex once a day at best and always with the lights out. “Yes.”

  “You’re not being honest.” Sir stood and folded his arms. “Tell me the truth.”

  “I am.” Liar.

  “You’re trying to squeeze into a mold. You’re original and don’t belong to any one person. Stop trying to be something you’re not.” Sir tipped her gaze again. “Andi.”

  “I’m being myself.” Kind of. If she had her way, she’d wear his collar and serve him happily at the club, but her wishes weren’t important if he didn’t offer the collar.

  “Don’t allow anyone—even me—to force you into being anything you’re not.” Sir brushed his thumb across her chin. “I’m serious.”

  He was making this difficult. “Sir.”

  “Andi.” He let go of her and hadn’t declared his love. He remained cool and detached, just the way she both expected and hated.

  “I’m ending our agreement. You haven’t collared me, and I don’t believe you ever will.” She stood tall. “I’m going to marry Trey.”

  “Congratulations.”

  She shook her head and screamed. Maybe she was acting like a spoiled child, but she wasn’t sure how to make hi
m understand or at least react. “Don’t you care?”

  “You’ve made up your mind.” He removed the temporary collar. “Why try when you know what you want?”

  “You’re not even going to try? You won’t fight for me?” Anything? He had to want to collar her. He’d suggested not long ago that she was the best sub he’d ever had. She excelled under his hand, and despite her tendency to give him hell, she craved his domination. She looked forward to their sessions. Her ass tended to hurt after a scene, but she didn’t care. The high from being spanked, caned, and used spurred her on.

  “You don’t want me to.” He held onto the leather collar.

  “I want you to love me. To crave me.” She wiped fresh tears from her face. “I want to be desired.”

  “Andi.”

  Her resistance broke. She couldn’t hold her feelings or her words in check. “You can’t say it. You don’t feel the connection I do, and you don’t want this.” She held the robe closed. “Thanks for being yourself.”

  “I can’t say what you want to hear,” he said. “You’re expecting something from me that’s impossible. Not here.”

  “Then I can’t stay. Goodbye, Sir.” She turned on her heel and walked out of the private playroom. Her cheeks burned from crying, and her chest ached from the wax. She’d allowed him complete control, and he hadn’t returned her feelings. She felt hollow. A piece of her heart stayed with him, despite knowing she wouldn’t return to him. She had to move on with her life to someone who cared. So she’d have a vanilla sex life… Lots of people did, and they were happy. She’d have permanency. That had to mean something. Who needed whips, paddles and domination when you could have stability … right?

  She kept the robe on and gathered her bag from her locker, then left the club. As she drove out of the lot, she continued to sob. Most of her believed she’d done the right thing by pushing him, but the rest of her wasn’t convinced. She’d ignored her concerns and gut responses to turn around. She’d been taught to keep looking forward and focus on the future—one without Sir.