T’s taste ran more to sexy chic, while Dan’s was more like trashy slut. As long as no one knew she wore practically nothing underneath—which she feared wouldn’t last much longer—no one would have guessed her destination for the evening.
With his hand riding low on her back, the tip of his pinky grazing the uppermost curve of her ass, T guided her out of the alcove and onto the main floor.
“Skipping the show is a good thing,” he said, glancing around. “With everyone crowding the bar and lounge to see Elena, we have our pick of stations.”
“Lucky us.” Angie deadpanned.
“Sarcasm isn’t appreciated by Doms and usually earns prompt retribution,” he advised in warning. “Relax, I promise you’ll enjoy yourself more if you do.”
She rolled her eyes at the arrogance of his statement.
“Uh-uh! Eye rolling is another definite no-no. Didn’t Master Dan teach you about basic respect?”
“He did. I guess I forgot now that it’s show time.”
“As soon as we enter the club, whether here or in LA—” He paused, fist pounding his chest as he grunted, “me dominant.” Rotating his hand, he poked two fingers lightly against her chest and finished, “You submissive.”
She couldn’t keep from giggling at his Tarzan, king of the jungle impersonation. “Ah, so that’s what the “T” stands for.”
“Come along, Jane,” he ordered, in the same laconic manner. “Me want to play.”
The cross he led her to, stood at least eight feet tall. It was black, thickly padded and scared the crap out of her. Angie felt T move in close behind her, his big body towering over her as he enveloped her in his arms. They hugged her waist tightly and pulled her back firmly against his front. With his chin, he brushed the hair away from her neck, his warm breath fanning across her cheek and ear, sending a shiver coursing through her body when he spoke.
“Nice and slow tonight. You don’t worry about anything except the sound of my voice, responding to my commands and feeling my control in the restraints.”
He eased away, hands moving up to her zipper and eased it down. She stiffened, opening her mouth to protest. Beneath her dress she wore nothing except a skimpy lace thong. She’d be more exposed than on the bench, for all to see. T sensed her distress and was quick to reassure her.
“Easy, little bit. We’ll start out facing the cross, panties on. No one will see anything other than your lovely back. I’m going to touch you, everywhere, including over your panties, but I won’t do more unless you ask me to.”
Lulled by his deep, seductive voice, she wasn’t aware that her dress was undone until it fell with a whoosh to her feet.
“Step out,” he ordered low against her ear, his sultry tone unchanged.
She found herself obeying without question, though her hands rose instinctively to cover her breasts.
He didn’t say a word as he stooped to pick up her dress and draped it over a nearby table with care. As she watched, Angie noticed a black bag lying open on the same table. She’d seen other Doms, including Dan, carry a bag like his, filled with all sorts of BDSM toys. It seemed odd to call whips and straps toys. A leather wrapped handle was sticking out of the top. Was it the paddle he’d mentioned earlier?
“Where did that bag come from?”
“One of the attendants brought it to me.”
“I didn’t see you ask anyone for it.”
“That’s because I didn’t have to. Our attendants are efficient, silent and nearly invisible.”
“There wasn’t any nearly about it.” Her focus hadn’t moved from the handle. “Are you going to spank me with whatever that is in your bag?” she asked abruptly, needing to know with an urgency bordering on desperation what lay ahead for her.
“Sir.”
“Pardon?”
“Respect, Angie. You’re in the club. How do you address your Dom?”
“Oh, of course. You are Sir.”
“That’s it. As for the spanking, it’s a very common type of play. Did Dan give you a sample?”
She nodded. “He spanked me while tied over a bench, and—” Her voice trailed off as she wrapped her arms around her chest, hugging herself. Never in her life had she imagined being a part of such a conversation.
T was in front of her, his hands cupping her jaw, angling her face up to his.
“And?” he prompted, his voice insistent.
“Punished me with a paddle.”
“When? Last night?”
“Yes.”
He turned her gently, his hand gliding over her back as he bent her over his forearm. Cool air brushed her bottom as he tugged down her panties to mid-thigh. His hand ran over each cheek lightly.
“What are you doing?” she gasped, thoroughly shocked.
“Checking for bruises or welts. I don’t see any. Are you still tender?”
Stunned at the unexpected inspection, her jaw dropped open and she stammered her answer. “No, er… Well, um, yes,” she paused, knowing she sounded like a ninny. “I mean the paddle stung quite a bit during, but it didn’t last long and wasn’t nearly so bad to leave marks.”
“Good. I won’t have to kick his ass when he gets back.” He said this softly, and although she could hear the smile in his voice, she got a feeling he wasn’t kidding. He pulled the barely there scrap of lace back in place and turned her to face him once again as he pressed for more. “So, if it didn’t hurt too badly, did it perhaps feel good?”
Her cheeks flamed. How did she answer that?
“Never mind.” The edge of one thumb came up and swept over the crest of her flushed cheek in the softest of caresses. “This pretty blush is answer enough. Let’s get you up on the cross and explore. I think we might find other things that feel just as good, if not better.” He produced a pair of white leather fleece lined wrist cuffs from his bag. Once applied snugly, he walked her forward, his hands guiding her by the hips. As he attached her cuffs to hooks high above her head, he explained. “These are stiff because they’re new. If they pinch or hurt in anyway, I expect you to tell me.”
She nodded.
“Your answers are to be verbal, little bit.”
“Yes, Sir,” she replied back.
“Again, these are the basics. I’m beginning to think Dan didn’t teach you anything.”
“He did, but I’ve been on edge, so I’ve forgotten some of them.”
“Respect, verbal responses, and safewords are rules you cannot forget.”
“Yes, Sir. I’ll remember this time.”
Moving a half step back, his touch didn’t leave her. He gathered her hair, pulling it forward over one shoulder, thereby exposing her back. With fingers splayed wide, his hands slid down slowly, along either side of her spine, dipping low until they stopped at the waistband of her panties. “You have beautiful skin. Smooth and flawless.” One hand dropped lower, stroking over first one cheek than the other. “It’s nothing compared to this ass,” his fingers flexed, as if testing the suppleness, “which is simply stunning.”
Angie quivered, his touch igniting a fire in her body. She bit the inside of her lip, successfully suppressing the moan that rose up and threatened to burst free, but she had no control of her hips which thrust forward reflexively, nudging the padded cross.
“Did Master Dan use a flogger on these gorgeous cheeks?”
“Yes, Sir, he used two, suede and nylon.” The breathy quality of her voice could not be mistaken for anything other than what it was—desire.
“A very good start for a novice.” His head bent and she felt his lips brush softly across her shoulder. His whispered breath followed, making her shiver. “Your body’s vibrating with need after only a few light touches. A taste of my lash will have you soaring.”
From the corner of her eye she saw him twist, his long arm easily reaching his bag without leaving her. He withdrew an ominous looking multi-tailed whip.
She tensed. Missing nothing, his hand squeezed her hip. “Trust me, Angie.” A fract
ion of a second later the lash stroked across her bottom. Prepared for much worse than the paddle, a ragged low cry escaped her lips despite the sensation being soft and light.
“Relax,” he murmured as the leather connected again. There was no bite or sting, instead, the tails thumped, curling around her curves like massaging fingers.
Her head fell back. The long fall of her hair sweeping down her back as T methodically lashed her ass and down her thighs with the heavenly flogger. Alive with sensation, a moan rose from her chest. As if by design, his hand sank into her hair, coiling it around and around his wrist, baring her back once again. Without releasing his firm hold, the flogger fell higher, connecting lightly along the base of her ribs. She’d witnessed a similar scene each of the past two nights, thinking it must be painful to take a lashing across the back and shoulders, but she was wrong. There was no pain, only pleasure, at least in the way T was doing it.
Under his control, his focus solely on her, his lash caressed her naked body, making her feel—really feel—sensations she’d never experienced before. She was starting to realize why all of this was so compelling, why some of her friends craved it like a drug, pursuing it, reveling in it, submitting to its power. She didn’t want him to stop, ever. She felt alive, her body vibrating as he’d said it would, her hard nipples rubbing against the cross with every stroke, her pussy drenched with need. The strokes began to fall across her ass once again, meeting her lowermost cheeks this time, the thud of the tails driving her arousal even higher.
“T, please.”
“Please what, baby?” His voice rasped in reply, not breaking the pattern of his strokes.
“I need—”
“Ask for what you want and I’ll give it to you.”
“I need to come.”
“Mm… try again. This time be specific in what you want and ask with respect.”
The lash zipped a bit harder, bringing her up on her toes, not with biting pain, rather with intensity as the muscles of her thighs, buttocks, and those deep within her contracted.
“Touch me, Sir, make me come.”
A light graze over her mound through the lace of her panties felt good, but was in no way what she wanted, what she needed. She whimpered with frustration.
“I told you in the beginning, nothing beneath your panties and if you wanted more you’d have to ask for it.” Broad fingers found the wet strip of lace over her clit and pressed against it. “This was a limit we set, Angie. I need to be clear.” There was a long pause as the wide pads of his fingertips kept up the torturous pressure. At length, he repeated, “Ask, baby, and I’ll give it to you.”
“T, I can’t stand it another minute. Please, slip your hand inside my panties and touch me. Let me come, please, Sir.”
“Good girl.” The lash stopped and her whimper of disappointment was unmistakably clear. “Spread your legs.”
Her feet immediately moved apart and she canted her hips, wordlessly begging for more as she obeyed. His hand slid down the flat of her belly and dipped beneath the lace. “Wider, Angie. Let me in.”
Without thought, she separated her feet further and was rewarded by his fingers sliding over her lower lips. At the same time, a stroke of the lash fell across her ass. She didn’t know how to move, forward onto his searching hand or back to take more of the wickedly divine flogger. She cried out as his fingers circled her pulsating nub, moving quickly past it to glide into her channel, one boldly entering at first, joined soon by another. The thump of the lash on her ass drove her hips forward sending him deeper. His thumb found her clit, working in tandem with his magical fingers, pushing her rapidly toward a climax.
Once again, she cried out.
“Let go, beautiful,” he ordered. She didn’t need to be told twice and came apart in his arms. Soaring high as he predicted in one of the most intensely pleasurable orgasms she’d ever experienced.
Distinctly aware of his fingers, gently stroking her pussy, running lightly over her lips, occasionally skimming over her hypersensitive clit as she came down, she barely registered the flogger had stopped. A moment later she lost his hand between her legs. He wrapped an arm around her waist as he leaned against her, his body pinning her to the cross. The next she knew, her wrists were free, hanging limply by her side. Like her arms, her legs were rubbery.
Something soft was draped around her body and strong arms lifted her.
“Sir?”
“Shh, darlin’, I’m taking care of you.”
Believing wholeheartedly that he would, she snuggled into his embrace and let him carry her where he would.
*****
Coming out of her doze slowly, she didn’t open her eyes right away, taking in the sounds around her instead. Muted conversations in the foreground mixed with the thwacks and thuds of lashes and paddles, and the subsequent cries of passion and erotic pain. Music in the background, which she recognized as the ethereal sounds of Delirium’s Euphoria. Most prominent, was the strong thump of a heartbeat beneath her ear. Of course, the steady pulse belonged to T, as did the low familiar voice that rumbled in the hard muscled chest where she rested her cheek.
“Are you coming back to me, beautiful?”
Her lids opened, through a haze of lassitude she gazed up at him. The slight smile playing around his lips was as tender as the hand that softly slid down her cheek.
“I think so, Sir.” She blinked, trying to focus. “That was amazing.” Her spontaneous remark was followed by a flood of heat to her cheeks as memories of what he’d done to her, of what she’d asked him to do came back in a rush.
“None of that now.” His deep voice sounded much like a growl as his hand caught her chin and his eyes blazed down at her. “You found pleasure. It was fucking beautiful. Enough said.” He shifted her in his lap until she sat more upright, handed her an open bottle of water and ordered, “Drink.”
Dutifully, she did so. As she sipped, enjoying being nestled securely in his lap, she surveyed the large room. She didn’t get far as her gaze collided with Megan’s, who was frowning at her from the other end of the couch. Looking far less relaxed, she too sat on Cap’s lap, who had a long arm snaked casually around her hips while he spoke to a man standing beside the couch.
Angie squirmed beneath her cousin’s obvious disapproval.
“Cap?” T waited until Tony’s head swung around. “Kindly do something about your submissive. She’s glaring at mine and spoiling our aftercare.”
Megan’s mouth flew open, snapping her head toward T in surprise. The next second she was scowling over his betrayal.
“Now she’s glaring at me. You know, since I’ve been back, there’s been a lot of that going on.”
“Indeed,” Cap murmured. To Megan, he ordered, “Eyes on me, Angel.”
Her attention immediately refocused.
“First, you disrupt the lounge with an argument with your sister,” Cap began with a displeased frown, “now you’re interrupting aftercare. You’ve already got two dozen coming once a station is available. You better quit before your tally has to be broken into multiple sessions.”
Angie watched as Megan’s demeanor instantly changed, curling her body into his and laying a hand on her husband’s broad chest.
“I’m sorry, Captain. Forgive me?”
“Of course, but forgiveness and canceling a well-earned punishment are two different things. You know that.” Lifting his chin toward the leather bag at T’s feet, he asked, “Have you got a paddle with you, bud? I have DM duty later and with LBD night in the lounge, I wasn’t expecting to need mine.”
“Sure do. Although in the past few years that I’ve known Megan, I can’t think of a time when you haven’t needed your bag.”
“Hey!” Megan protested as T shifted forward and fished around in his bag, which seemed to magically follow him around and appear whenever he needed it.
“Quiet.” Cap ordered, although without much bite. “He’s right. You know it. I know it. Hell, everyone in the entire club know
s it.”
T grinned as he produced a clear plastic paddle with holes and passed it over to Cap, the whole while Angie sat in silence, watching the interplay with fascination.
“Look, baby,” Cap said as he accepted the proffered implement. “He’s got one like ours.”
“That’s because you passed them out like Santa Claus does candy canes last Christmas.”
“I did, didn’t I?” he acknowledged with a broad grin, weighing the paddle and giving a few practice swings while continuing tongue in cheek. “Lexan, when you care to give the very best.”
“FYI,” Megan grumbled, directing her comment to Angie. “Watch out for the very best. It stings like a mother—” Her name rumbling in a low warning gave her pause. She clearly reconsidered her choice of words as she continued. “It stings like the devil. I hate that damn paddle. In fact, I think it might be the devil. It doesn’t burn. Believe me, I’ve tried.”
T and the few others standing nearby who were watching the couple’s interactions chuckled along with Cap. Her big boss surprised a gaping Angie with a wink as he shifted Megan to her feet. “Apologize to Master T and his sub, Angel.”
“Sorry for interrupting aftercare, Master T, Angie.”
“Very nice. Now, let’s grab that vacant bench over there and get you spanked before another smart ass comment slips out and you earn more.” Cap tossed his petite wife over his shoulder, ignoring her squirming protests other than to deliver a swift crack of his huge palm across her ass as he carted her off.
Angie stared after them in amazement.
What About Love (Club Decadence Book 6) Page 9