“Why aren’t you drinking, Chey?” asked her friend Ashley. “You need to loosen up and enjoy our Friday night.”
Cheyenne decided not to say that the reason she hesitated to drink is that she saw the intense look of Quinlan O’Connor. She already felt wet in her nether regions for the third time tonight and the fourth time today. She was going to have to start carrying extra panties at this rate. That thought made her giggle. Then she thought of what crossing Quinn would be like and concluded it would be a terrible thing. While he had nothing to do with her life, he was imposing on her mind and her pussy. A chill ran down her back. It wasn’t only of imagined retribution but of a type of anticipation, thrill maybe, that made her curious what it would be like to have a man like that take an interest in her. Dangerously delightful I bet. She was sure that if she belonged to Quinlan O’Connor, there would never be a question as to what she should or shouldn't do or whether it was the right thing to do or not. He would make sure she knew in no uncertain terms.
“Hey, we thought we would try out the new club, The Sting, whatcha say?” Richard asked.
“I say that it’s private, and we don’t have a membership.” Not wanting to say she was told to stay away, but just the thought of entering the sex club made her stomach clench. She ordered a drink and even that made her think of Quinlan O'Connor.
“Yeah, but it’s introduction night, so The Sting will give us thirty minutes of presentation and two hours to check out the place to see if we would like to join or something. I don’t know, but John is going, and he is taking Megan, so Richard and I decided to go too.”
“It’s more expensive than I want to put out for a club membership, I bet. Besides, it sounds interesting, but it looks like a couple’s thing so you go and I’ll hang out here tonight. Tell me how it is, okay?” Whew! Saved on that one.
“No way; you need a break, and you were curious so what better way to check it out than on a night like this, with friends,” encouraged Megan.
After downing her second drink, two drinks she was not going to have, Cheyenne decided it was something she was curious about. Why should she care about what Quinlan O’Connor wanted? She was a big girl, and he did not get to tell her what to do. Cheyenne suppressed the feeling of foreboding and agreed to go with them. Also wondering if she should not down a third drink just for the hell of it and because she wanted to go with her friends. She was an adult, damn it and more than capable of making a grown-up decision.
Cheyenne and her friends walked into The Sting and were instructed to fill out some basic demographic information, read the rules, and had to sign a waiver and a confidentiality agreement. Cheyenne tried to look nonchalant as she read all the paperwork and finally just skimmed the first and last lines of each paragraph and signed. After all the paperwork was completed, they were allowed into a large room. The women were told they could keep their shoes on until it was time to go to the main club floor and then they would need to take them off if they were the submissive. Socks were allowed to stay on if it bothered one too much to be barefooted but bare feet helped put one in the submissive role. The club was lavishly decorated but tastefully done in hardwoods and leather accented with large, live plants and touches of lace, satin, and velvet.
“Oh my lord, this place is so richly decadent in its décor that I feel licentious.”
“What? You feel like what?” asked Megan, who was with John and never much on vocabulary.
“Extravagant, lustful, my kind of self-indulgent sweetie, and such a delicious way to feel,” supplied Ashley.
Cheyenne felt overwhelmed and lagged behind her friends as they walked over to where the group was assembling soon to be introduced to the club’s attributes. The uncontrolled shiver that ran down her back surprised Cheyenne and put her on alert even more. Her friends, each with someone, did not notice she had slowed her step to further examine the overall ambiance of the room. There just seemed to be too much to take in all at once. Like a too-rich dessert, you want to savor but get queasy after several bites. There was something else, not sinister, really, but like an old gentleman’s private club. Just as the décor was rich, the total result appeared debauched in the atmosphere it created. It made Cheyenne feel like she would need to be escorted.
The thought rushed through her head, just as Quinlan said. She knew she should have waited to go when she could go with someone she trusted and someone more mature than this group, that’s for sure. They had no inkling that this was more than what it first appeared. Neither did she but she was leaving now. With her decision made, Cheyenne felt the most confident she had since entering the doors.
She walked over quickly to where her friends were standing to wait to find a seat. Ashley reached out to Cheyenne when she saw her approaching.
“There you are, girl. I thought you had found some hot guy to hang out with.” She looked at Cheyenne’s face and said, “You didn’t did you, find a man?”
“What? No. Look, I am not comfortable, so I think I am just going to go. Thanks for inviting me but I don’t believe that this is for me.”
“Oh, Chey, but you haven’t given it a try yet. You don’t even know what you don’t like,” added Megan who appeared to Cheyenne to have had too much to drink already.
“Really, they are about to start, and I am not going stay. Catch you next weekend. Have fun.”
She waved to the guys as she turned and began to leave the club relieved not to be staying. As she walked towards the doorway that led to the entrance to retrieve her purse and to call a cab, she heard a familiar sound. Sucking in her breath and turning cautiously to look in the direction of the voice, she could hear her heart pounding in her ears and her pulse beating in her throat. She heard the chuckle she had just heard earlier that evening, and it now gave her a shiver of fear. Carefully, she raised her eyes and was not surprised to discover Quinlan, standing and talking to another man, as though he belonged here.
Cheyenne saw he had on black leather pants, not too tight but just fitted enough to make a woman groan, along with what looked to be a classic long sleeve dark vibrant green silk shirt. His eyes changed to match the green sheen of the shirt. Along with that, he wore a black leather vest that sported a logo on the pocket that resembled the logo of this club. Cheyenne stopped in her tracks and took a shocked breath in that was none too quiet.
She quickly turned away and started with great purpose towards the door when a steel arm snagged her waist, and hot breath was in her ear.
“You do not obey well, piscín. That may not bode well for you tonight.”
Cheyenne’s legs were in danger of giving way, and she leaned into his support for a moment before she got her bearings and responded.
“I am leaving, Quinlan, and not because you told me not to come, but because I don’t feel comfortable, my choice.”
“Hmm, why are you here in the first place? Was I not clear enough?”
Cheyenne tried to suppress the shiver she felt but couldn’t do it well. “Mmm,” she shrugged her shoulders. “I was invited because of the open night, so I came with my friends.”
“And what of my admonishment, Cheyenne? Why did you disregard it?”
“Look, Mr. O’Connor, I am an adult and go where I please when I please.”
Cheyenne tried to pull herself out of his grasp and straighten her spine thereby making her feel tall next to him but to no avail. Quinn left her with no doubt that she would move only when he allowed the movement. Carnal electricity ripped through her body and dampness pooled in her lower regions. What raced through her core was not fear but excitement. God, she would need rubber panties at this rate. A suppressed moan rumbled in her chest, and she prayed Quinn couldn’t feel it.
He shook his head and ran his finger along her jawline. “You’re naughty, but luckily, I know how to deal with naughty.”
* * *
Quinlan O’Connor looked at this blonde beauty and was amused by her spunk. His hand itched to spank her spunk and kiss her indignant li
ps. He mentally shook his head because this disobedience was serious. If she stayed, he would have to be her escort because he wouldn’t allow anyone else access to her. His gut hurt at the thought of Cheyenne with anyone else. He couldn’t keep her safe except with him. He had looked at the curious cats milling in the foyer earlier with an experienced eye without too much hope. He and the other doms had watched the men and could only pick a few mature enough to learn how to play safe, sane, and consensually. Not that anyone would be playing unfettered for at least a month or two. The club did not want any misconstrued ideas. This was play, but it was for mature audiences and not for those who were just curious. It was hoped that two hours here would satisfy most that it was too “kinky” or “weird” for them.
Quinn’s voice was firm and rather menacing. “I am not happy that you didn’t keep your promise to me, but, now that you are here, you can stay if you stay with me. I’ll be your introduction to the Club. If you want to leave at any time, I’ll send you home in a cab, but if you want to stay, it will be with me, only. And if you decide to stay, you will take your punishment for not keeping your word to me.”
Quinn knew he was pushing his boundaries with her, but he had been very serious about not being sure it was the right atmosphere for her. He would oversee her introduction himself to be sure it was fun and safe. He didn’t know why it was important that she was well taken care of, but knowing she was protected, settled his nerves and calmed his heart. He tried to chalk it up to being in law enforcement, a dom, and an O’Connor, but he knew it was more. He was interested in this one, more than he had been in a long time. That being the case, he also wanted to make sure that everyone knew she was with him, and he wanted her to know what he was about. He didn’t hide who he was in situations like this. She had to learn that he was a hungry bear, and she had just entered his den.
“What? Punishment? No, thank you. I told you I do what I want when I want, and I want to go home.”
Quinn released Cheyenne causing her to stagger, but he never took a step away keeping her safe and yet off balanced a bit longer. After a few seconds to reorient her body to being unassisted and yet so close to Quinn her traitorous clit was dancing, she heard Quinn speak in her ear again.
“I would prefer you leave anyway, as I told you not to come.”
Cheyenne was speaking before she knew it, “And what if I want to stay, you can’t make me stay with you.” That sounded mature. And achy, was she feeling a tingling? Really?
Quinn laughed at that. “I most certainly can, beag amháin. Why is it you are hesitating?”
“I’m not, well, I mean, isn’t this for naughty girls?” she finished with her voice hardly above a whisper.
His amusement was obvious but to his credit, Quinn did not laugh again. “Oh, yes, but that is what you are, isn’t it, mo cailín dána?” His voice lowered to a sensual caress, “You are a naughty girl for coming without my escort, aren’t you, after you promised?” His tone became demanding again, “Now, go or stay, I have a group to help orient.”
Quinn stood to wait for her response, and her curiosity got the better of her, as it often did.
“I’m staying,” she murmured. Looking up into his face for his reaction, she saw him raise his eyebrow. She licked her lips before speaking in what she hoped was a more acceptable way, “I would like to stay, please.”
“Sir. Tonight you call me sir because you are my naughty piscín. Anyone with this vest on is Sir. It shows respect to the others, and we have a lot of that here. Something you could learn more about, Cheyenne.”
No smile, Cheyenne noted, so Quinlan was not joking. He wanted her to call him Sir and the environment seemed to demand it. Damn. Outside these doors, it would never fly, but inside these walls, it was right.
So she amended her statement, “I would like to stay, please… Sir.” Her eyes lowered, and she whispered the last word, but she said it.
She hesitated just enough for Quinn to raise his eyebrow before smiling. Leaning down he spoke just before he tenderly kissed her pouty lips. “That was very nicely done, piscín. Are you also willing to accept your punishment for not obeying?” Her eyes flew open and the softness disappeared in her obvious shock.
“What? No. Punishment? Sir. Actually, sir, I don’t know if I am or not because I don’t know what that would entail.”
“Good answer. You should always understand what a scene or punishment is until you trust your partner, then…” Quinn shrugged.
“Then what?” Quinn’s eyebrow went up, and Cheyenne slid in the forgotten “sir.”
“Then, piscín, your partner will take you where you need to go with or without disclosure because he will be so in tune with you that your very breath will be his existence.”
“What is that word, pish-kean or something like that?”
“Ah, deflecting, not a skill your future dom will appreciate. Kitten, piscín means kitten. You are cuddly, soft, have claws that come out at appropriate and inappropriate times. Curious to the point of getting yourself into trouble, but mean no harm and are both obedient and disobedient causing you to need a protector and a spanking in the same breath.”
“And are you assigning that role to yourself, Quinn?”
“Sir, and that is your last warning. I am your dom, your sir for tonight, piscín, for tonight at least. We will see if you want one for longer after this evening. And if you will want it to be me.”
Quinn placed his hand on the small of her back rubbing warm circles for a moment before guiding her to the group who was listening to a gentleman with the same pants and vest as Quinn. Quinn placed her in a seat next to a third gentleman dressed in the same attire, and he continued to walk to the front. While they were attractive in the regular ideals of handsome, they weren’t gorgeous men, however, it did not seem to matter at all. They commanded obedience and oozed sexuality. And they had to hit the gym, daily.
These men were well defined and confidence exuded from them, telling all who would take notice that they were not worried about who they were to others because they were good enough for themselves. Cheyenne sighed and wondered if she would ever find a man who was comfortable in his own skin. Then would they think her good enough for him to love her as is?
She knew she was good at her job, did well for her clients, and was fair and honest with people. She wasn’t a bad looker if the men she dated were any judge, but it was more than that. Sometimes she wondered if she would be able to find that someone who loved her for her. Not for what she could do for them. She yearned to be loved for who she was on the inside, and right now, her insides were warm and needy. Since her father had left her a sizeable portfolio, men, shallow and boring, often asked her out for her money. The man in front of her was neither shallow nor boring.
Those who wanted a little extra in the bedroom did not seem to know the difference between control and aggression, erotic pain and worse. Men were so hard to predict anymore. She just needed one good guy. One that was good to her and comfortable in his own skin, like Quinn. Cheyenne believed that Quinn would be able to differentiate and was most likely quite practiced in the art of erotic pain, dominance, and control. But could be oh so tender like he showed tonight and his kiss was just a whisper, leaving her hungry for what he was serving. She licked her lips as she was deep in the thought of scrumptious and looked up to see Quinn staring at her, causing her to turn a dark pink. She looked away.
The gentleman next to her leaned over, patting Cheyenne’s hand with a smile and seemed to be reassuring her.
He whispered, “Don’t overthink this information because Quinn, as any good dom, will expect you to feel sensations more than process words.”
Little did he know she hadn’t heard one word said so far. She decided she had better pay attention in case it was something she needed to know. Most of the room was stark still, almost eerily so, which meant she had better listen and quit going on mind chases.
“Respect is a big thing here. When you are watching a scene
, the participants may have planned it out for quite a while, and so it’s important that you not speak above a whisper and as few of those as possible. Those in the scene are concentrating, and it’s important to allow that concentration to continue so no one is left without the gratification they are expecting from their play.”
“In every relationship, there is at least one leader and one follower. One who has the final say, and one who accepts that last word, even if they still don’t agree. In a scene, it’s set up so that the one ministering is the leader or dominant and the one receiving the ministrations is the follower or the submissive. If you decide to continue to explore this lifestyle in whole or in part, you will find that while the one with the responsibility is the dominant, the dom or domme, the one who truly has the power is the submissive or the sub.
“As in a household that allows for one head and one helpmate, the leader will pay attention to the needs of the others he is responsible for and meet those needs. He or she is never abusive and is ever vigilant to make sure that what their partner needs, in these walls or outside of these walls is supplied. If it’s more than club play, those needs are met to the best of their ability. But because of that, sometimes what the sub needs and what the sub wants may be two different things. The difficulty for the sub is to allow his or her dom to know what is right for him or her and allow that to take place. And remember, this is for club play. However, your setup outside of these walls does not have to be related.”
Quinn discussed using “sir” or “ma’am” when appropriate and reiterated that if this type of “play” is not an agreement between both parties, then it’s not to be done. “However, all doms must be shown respect and all subs cherished.
Quinlan's Quest (Quinlan O'Connor Book 1) Page 3