The Reluctant Dom

by Paul Preston

  “I just wanted to say… though our contract is short; it doesn’t mean I’m not seriously committed to my relationship with Mr. Anderson. In fact, the last two days with Charles have been the most exciting in my life. He is my Dom and I’m proud to be called his submissive. Though reluctant at first, Mr. Anderson has proven himself to be the perfect Dom. He has given me the courage to explore these… needs of mine and I will never forget him for that. I’ve pledged my obedience and devotion to Mr. Anderson and he’s taken care of me, both emotionally… and sexually… It took a good deal of courage for us to come here and I think it’s wrong of you to make us feel bad by excluding us from visiting your club. And from the reaction of your guests, you may be the only one who doesn’t want me here. I’m curious to know why that is, Sir.”

  Jefferson’s back stiffened. He was obviously not accustomed to having his decisions challenged by a submissive. I was so proud of Cassandra for standing up to Jefferson and I was greatly moved by what she said to me. To Cassandra at least, I was the “perfect Dom”. It made my heart burst with love for her.

  “Would you allow us to visit Obsessions just for a day or two, Mr. Jefferson? We’d be ever so grateful...” Cassandra said with a charming smile.

  Although he seemed tempted, Jefferson quickly recovered his stern demeanor.

  “Ms. Madsen, this is not Disneyland where one can purchase a day pass to get in. As owner of Obsessions it is solely under my discretion who I will or will not allow to remain in my establishment. And it is for your own protection that I must ask you to leave. Right now.”

  “For my protection? Are you saying I’m too sexy for your club? That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me, Sir.”

  Jefferson addressed me.

  “What game is your sub playing, Mr. Anderson?”

  I didn’t know how to respond to him.

  “I didn’t know we were playing games, Mr. Jefferson,” Cassandra said.

  “Good evening to you both,” Jefferson said, rather abruptly.

  I lost my patience with this ass and moved a few paces toward the door. Perhaps we could stop by a different gentlemen’s club in Chicago and meet someone Cassandra would find attractive. Following me out of his office, Cassandra whispered her request in my ear.

  “Charles, will you please give me a moment alone with this gentleman? I think I can convince him to allow us to stay.”

  I didn’t want to leave her alone in the room with another man, but Jefferson seemed like such a cold fish, I didn’t think anything would happen. Plus, it gave me a chance to show Cassandra I trusted her to be alone with another man. This could be my best opportunity to win her over. I nodded and turned back to Jefferson.

  “Mr. Jefferson, would you mind if I used the rest room before we leave?” I asked.

  “Be my guest. It’s down at the end of the long corridor on your right, near the bar,” Jefferson said.

  “Thank you. My submissive would prefer to wait here in your office while I’m gone if you don’t mind,” I said.

  “Fine. Take a seat, Ms. Madsen,” Jefferson said rather brusquely.

  I kissed Cassandra’s cheek in a tender fashion.

  “Thank you, Charles,” she whispered in a heartfelt way.

  I smiled, nodded and left Cassandra alone with Jefferson in his office. I walked down the corridor and around the club for a few minutes, my hands in my pockets. I wondered what was going on back in the office. I thought of grabbing a drink at the bar to settle my nerves, but the line was too long. After a few more minutes I got impatient and returned, quietly stepping inside the door. My worst fears were immediately realized.

  Cassandra was cuddled up on Jefferson’s lap behind his desk. Neither of them heard or noticed me enter the room. I watched them kiss, so tenderly it burned a hole in my soul that exists to this day. I suppose it was inevitable and this was what Cassandra needed, but it was painful for me to watch. I would rather have seen my submissive give Jefferson oral sex, than what she was doing. I couldn’t look away as Cassandra brushed her lips, deeply, slowly and gently over and through the gash running across Jefferson’s hideous face. His eyes were closed and it looked like he was in a trance-like state. Cassandra looked happy as well and I could tell she was relishing this time alone with Jefferson.

  Cassandra whispered something in his ear and he nodded once. I kept telling myself it was part of the plan, that Cassandra would want me even more now that I allowed her to become intimate with another man. It kept my hope alive that she would decide to stay with me after Wednesday, at least.

  Jefferson eventually opened his eyes and saw me standing against the door of his office. We exchanged an awkward look and I gazed down to the floor. Cassandra sidled off his lap, crossed the room and stood obediently at my side. Jefferson mumbled a lame apology.

  “Mr. Anderson, I must apologize. I… don’t know what came over me. I was doing my paperwork and suddenly Ms. Madsen and I were… I assure you, I’ve never kissed another man’s submissive before. Ms. Madsen is, as I’m sure you’re aware, very attractive, but I certainly never meant to… It won’t happen again… Please accept my apology, Mr. Anderson.”

  I didn’t look at him. By making my voice neutral, I tried to mask my rage, jealousy, sadness.

  “There’s no need to apologize. Cassandra mentioned to me that she was… attracted to you. I gave her my full permission to share an intimate moment with you, if she wished. It’s in the contract we signed. She… likes to share,” I said, possessively placing his arm around Cassandra’s waist.

  Hearing my measured response, Cassandra smiled at me with warmth in her eyes that reaffirmed her connection to me. I could tell Cassandra was greatly relieved by my acceptance of her strange attraction to the ugly man. Was she just being nice to him? I didn’t understand it. Intertwining her fingers in my hand, she turned to Jefferson.

  “So, what do you say, Mr. Jefferson? Do you really want to kick us out in the cold when it’s so warm and cozy in your nice club?”

  Jefferson changed his tune, of course.

  “Mr. Anderson, I’d like to extend an invitation for you and Ms. Madsen to visit Obsessions this week as my personal guests.”

  “OK, Mr. Jefferson,” I said.

  “Call me Jim.”

  “All right, Jim.”

  “Would you both like a drink?” Jefferson asked.

  “Sure,” I replied. “Cassandra?”

  “I’m not a big drinker, but something bubbly sounds nice,” Cassandra said, staring back at Jefferson with a bright warm smile.

  I suppose our formal “appointment” had officially finally begun. Jefferson explained the layout of the club and the rules. There were three basic areas, he said. Area 1 was very similar to a normal night club, with table seating and a dance floor for regular visitors and for submissives that were currently unattached to a Dom. It was a safe and secure place for men and women to meet, Jefferson said.

  He explained that only submissives committed to the alternative lifestyle were permitted in Areas 2 and 3. In both areas, a submissive’s limbs had to be restrained. In Area 2, at least one limb had to be attached to the O-rings against the wall above the booths at all times or handcuffed to their chair or cocktail table. Jefferson handed me a master key which unlocked all the handcuffs in Obsessions and told me not to lose it. Jefferson explained that in Area 2 the submissive must remain clothed and casual non-sexual touching such as a handshake was permitted, along with polite conversation. No intimate touching of any kind was permitted in Area 2.

  Area 3 was separated from the rest of the club on a raised platform near the bar and was the most risqué section. Two or more of the submissive’s limbs were required to be attached in Area 3 at all times to the chains dangling from the ceiling or the O-rings mounted into the floor of the platform. Usually all four limbs were restrained in this area. In Area 3, clothing was optional. Sexual fondling of the submissive by her Dom, as well as kissing and touching between the submissive and o
ther men the Dom approved of was permitted there. There were two rows of chairs below the platform where voyeurs could sit and watch the show, I suppose. Jefferson said that in Area 3 men were allowed to bring a submissive to orgasm, but men were never permitted under any circumstances to have a sexual release there, or in any other area of Obsessions.

  “Despite what people think, this is a sex club for women, not for men,” Jefferson said.

  While it was normally up to the Dom in which area he placed his submissive, Jefferson told us that Cassandra would only be permitted in Area 2, due to the provocative way she was dressed and the fact that he didn’t trust the Doms to be around her. I was relieved by his decision. I had begun to feel a great deal of anxiety about letting Cassandra loose in Obsessions and watching helplessly as she got molested by the horde of lustful men. I certainly didn’t want Cassandra’s body to be pawed at in front of me like fresh meat in the lion’s cage. I agreed to the rules and Jefferson had us sign a few consent forms before we left his office.

  The first stop on the tour was in the corridor a few paces from Jefferson’s office, outside the two glass enclosed rooms, separated by a partition.

  “In these two rooms, the members and guests of Obsessions can act out in a consensual manner any particular sexual fantasy they may have. There are chairs for public viewing of the scenes. The two rooms can be rented out on an hourly or nightly basis to fulfill this purpose. The glass walls offer full transparency and security cameras monitor all the activities for the safety of the submissives and the guests.”

  Several people were standing in the corridor and watching through the glass. The rooms inside were packed.

  “I’d offer you a seat inside, but it appears they’re all taken,” Jefferson said.

  Cassandra said she didn’t mind standing in the corridor and asked if it was OK with me, addressing me as Master C. It felt a little odd to be called that in front of Jefferson.

  “Master C?” Jefferson queried, raising his eyebrows slightly, with a note of sarcasm in his voice.

  “C is for Charles,” I explained self-consciously. “I’m perfectly fine in the hallway as well.”

  There was a handsome man in Room One, dressed dashingly in a starched white Doctor’s coat just like McDreamy or McSteamy from that TV show, giving what looked like some sort of perverted gynecological exam to a pretty naked young woman. With her legs spread open, the Doctor offered the onlookers a full view of his patient’s anatomy. Touching the lips of her sex with the tip of a long thin bullet-shaped vibrator, the physician bandied about words such as labia majora and labia minora, cervix, uterus, fallopian tubes and ovary. During the examination, McDreamy/McSteamy turned on the shiny silver vibrator and with a gentle buzz slipped it in out of his patient’s vagina.

  In Room Two, an older equally good-looking and well-dressed man was in the process of physically restraining an attractive nude woman’s arms and legs, while she was seated upon a comfortable reclining chair. In a somewhat pompous and professorial manner, the man was posing as some sort of expert in female sexuality, giving the audience a lecture and a demonstration on the proper technique to bring a woman to a full climax. As he securely tightened the last straps on her wrists to the cushioned head rest above her, he used spicy medical terminology in his lecture such as clitoris, G-Spot and the Skene’s Glands.

  Cassandra seemed mesmerized by the erotic scenes. I had to admit they were quite arousing to watch. I made brief eye contact with Jefferson and we shared an awkward moment before looking away from each other.

  As we stared at the scenes, Jefferson appeared lost in thought. He leaned his forehead into the glass and clenched his teeth. Cassandra noticed his changed demeanor and asked if he was alright. He snapped out of whatever was bothering him and said he was fine. The space where Cassandra and I stood became crowded with several bodies. Noticing the corridor blocked, Jefferson asked the patrons to disperse. After giving some instructions to a security officer to keep an eye on Cassandra, Jefferson escorted us to the main part of the club.

  As we passed the bar, Jefferson pointed out the section forbidden to us, Area Three. It was currently unoccupied. The night was still young, I assumed. I noticed Cassandra’s gaze linger there, observing the two rows of six theater seats and the chains that dangled from the ceiling above a raised platform. This was the image I remember depicted on the Obsessions website. Jefferson directed our attention to the overhead cameras mounted into the opposite wall which pointed directly at the platform. Jefferson insisted he kept Area Three under vigilant supervision for the protection of the submissives. He seemed obsessed by the safety of the female patrons. Cassandra’s gaze remained fixated on the chains dangling above and the O-Rings mounted into the floor. I could tell she was drawn to Area Three like a moth to the flame. I imagined her naked and chained on the platform, surrounded by several men touching, kissing and fondling her. I was relieved when Jefferson guided us to the relative safety of Area Two.

  Before I had a chance, Jefferson held out Cassandra’s chair for her in a gentlemanly fashion. I was told to handcuff Cassandra’s ankle to the base of the table and Jefferson locked her wrist into an O-Ring on the wall slightly above her chair. Jefferson and I left Cassandra alone for a moment and went to the bar to get our drinks. I hated to leave her even for a minute, but Jefferson said something about needing me to sign one additional form.

  We stood at the bar while Jefferson poured out our drinks. Sincerely apologizing once again about what happened in his office, I realized I couldn’t really stay mad at him for falling under Cassandra’s spell. In fact, I set the whole scenario up precisely for that purpose, so how could I be mad at him? Jefferson seemed like a decent guy. I decided to put my jealousy aside and follow through with my plan, hoping it would bring Cassandra and I closer together. As I stared over at her, Jefferson explained more rules of the club that he hadn’t gone over in his office. I signed the other form without reading it.

  Though we only left Cassandra alone for a moment, she immediately attracted the attention of several men. A group of bodies had formed around her blocking our view. I became anxious for her, wishing I hadn’t left her alone. Jefferson seemed nervous about it as well and called his security officer over to break up the crowd. I stood up to go check on Cassandra myself, but then Jefferson asked me a question about her.

  “Why doesn’t your sub just tell her boyfriend things have changed, the wedding is off and she’s with you now?”

  I intended to keep what was happening between us private, but I found myself becoming more and more depressed over the situation. So I confided to Jefferson that Cassandra was a born again Christian. He seemed rather shocked by the information. I told him everything, how she approached me two nights ago and told me how tormented she was by her fantasies, how she wanted to be tied up as a submissive and spanked and how she wanted to have a sexual experience with two men at the same time. I told Jefferson I agreed to help Cassandra fulfill these fantasies by signing a contract as her Dom. Although I didn’t come right out and say it, I think Jefferson got the idea that he was the other person Cassandra wished to have a sexual experience with before her boyfriend returned on Wednesday.

  After his guard broke up the crowd surrounding her, I saw Jefferson’s eyes focus like a laser on Cassandra. A paunchy older man stood Cassandra up beside the table, unlocked her from the seat and was brushing his fingers through her hair. Suddenly Jefferson left me at the bar and walked with urgency across the packed club. I followed several steps behind.

  By the time Jefferson finally managed to cut through the crowd, I had a clear view of Cassandra. The man was in the process of removing her dress. Cassandra didn’t seem to resist at all, in fact she held her arms up over her head to make it easier for the man to undress her. His large hands were all over her, squeezing her exposed breasts and pinching her large swollen nipples between his fingers. A crowd of men had formed to watch, waiting for their turn with her. I couldn’t really blame the man
for undressing and fondling her. It was basically my fault, of course. I’d invited Cassandra’s body to be molested in this seedy club by the provocative way I dressed her. I’d set up the whole scenario. What was I thinking?

  Jefferson immediately grabbed the man by his shoulders and spun him around like a puppet in his hands. Because of the volume of the music and the crowd blocking my way, I didn’t hear the argument word for word, only that Jefferson was very upset that the man had broken the rules of the club. After a short argument, Jefferson lifted the man clear off the ground by the lapels of his jacket and held him against the wall. The crowd, smelling blood, quieted down considerably and watched the confrontation. The man called Jefferson a “disgraced ex-cop” and threatened to have his business shut down. Eventually two security guards escorted the man and the woman he brought to the club out the front door. Jefferson asked me to reattach the restraint to Cassandra’s ankle at her table. Then Jefferson walked back to the bar and made an announcement through a public address system, apologizing for the disturbance. The patrons resumed their activities, but in a more somber manner. I rejoined Jefferson at the bar. He appeared to be wound up emotionally. He kept looking over at Cassandra as he sipped his Scotch. She had already gotten under his skin and I could certainly relate.

  “So, you like her too now. Join the club,” I said.

  Jefferson chose not to respond to my comment. I have to admit it felt good to have someone else become obsessed by Cassandra’s charms. Jefferson pushed his Scotch away and poured himself a sparkling water. Gazing across the bar at Cassandra, he put his hand on his cheek and touched his scar. Just to relieve the tension I asked him how he got his scar. Jefferson nonchalantly told me a story from his childhood about coming to the aid of a woman who was about to be raped by two older boys and getting sliced in the face with a knife after preventing the rape. The permanent scar across his face seemed like a high price to pay for preventing the rape. I asked why he did it. Jefferson looked away.