by Ivy Nelson
“It’s just obvious that the women I was watching were enjoying the things happening to them and I… I was enjoying watching. It’s confusing. I don’t think I could ever enjoy some of those things.”
“I would be willing to bet you’re wrong.”
Her expression changed as did her demeanor. Sitting straighter, she said, “OK. What do you want to bet?”
“What?”
“You said you would be willing to bet me. So, what do you want to bet?”
“Are you serious right now? It’s just an expression.”
“I’m serious. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this before, actually. I’ve been trying to come up with a way to figure this out. I’m an academic. I like experiments. I’m also competitive as fuck. So, let’s make a bet.”
A grin lit his face as he shook his head. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“OK, Angel. Let’s discuss this. We need parameters for a bet like this. Nothing too broad.”
“Absolutely,” she said. Her voice held excitement. She was really getting into this. Michael still couldn’t believe they were having this conversation.
“What were you watching that you didn’t think you would enjoy?” he asked.
“Spanking, whipping, that sort of thing.”
“OK. The broader term for that is impact play. Whips can be a little more advanced, so we’ll leave that off the table for now.”
Her head bobbed. She seemed calmer now, less apprehensive. Nerves still showed in her actions, but it was a different kind of nervous. A kind that was fun to play with.
Michael grinned. “So, Miss Kent, what exactly are you trying to bet me?”
“That I won’t enjoy these things.”
“If you’re so adamant that you won’t enjoy it, why are you willing to make this bet?”
“Because I’ve watched other women enjoying it and now, I’m curious enough to find out for myself.”
“Fair enough, Angel. What is the prize for this bet?”
Lifting a hand to her chin, her gaze grew thoughtful. “I’m not sure. If I’m right, I want a spa day. The full works. You know, to recover from whatever mean things you’ve done to me.”
Laughter shook him. “I think that can be arranged. And what if I’m right?”
“What do you want?”
“That’s easy, Angel. I want you. More specifically, I want your complete submission for a week.”
“A week? That seems a bit long.”
“Not at all. A week. We’ll negotiate the specifics. I won’t break past any limits you set. But once I show you how much you’ll enjoy this, I want you to agree to let me take you deeper.”
“OK. I agree to those terms. When do we start our wager?”
“You’re controlling this one, Angel. Let’s go to the club, and whenever you’re ready, you’ll tell me.”
“OK.”
Michael shook his head. Never in a million years would he have imagined having this conversation with her.
“Do you make a habit of making bets like this, Angel?”
She chuckled. “Not specifically. But when I lived in Arizona, I went to Vegas quite regularly. If I didn’t go into politics, I use to joke that I would join the professional poker circuit.”
Michael just stared at her in disbelief. Was she pulling his leg? It was hard to imagine prim and proper Adara playing poker in Vegas. She seemed quite serious though.
They changed clothes for the club, both donning dark jeans. He chose a white button down and she pulled on a black sweater. Adara locked Hamilton in her room and together they rode the elevator down. Peter was picking them up.
Carrie was sitting in the front seat, but she didn’t say anything when they got into the car. Peter said hello to them and then turned to his wife.
“Carrie here thought it would be a good idea to tell me to fuck off, so she’s not allowed to speak right now. I’m sure once I take care of her little indiscretion at the club, she’ll want to say hello.” He flashed a wicked grin at the petite blonde. Carrie just glared at him. Feeling a bit feisty today, apparently.
Michael filled them in on what was happening. When he got to the part about the DNA test, Carrie turned, intent on saying something.
“Not a fucking word, Carrie. You can talk about this with them later.” She slumped in the front seat. “And stop pouting. You know I don’t appreciate that. You brought this on yourself.”
Michael felt Adara shift uncomfortably beside him. He slipped his arm around her, leaned close and whispered, “You OK?”
She nodded.
Once they got into the club, he pulled her to a couch in a secluded corner.
“Talk to me. Was that uncomfortable for you?”
Her shoulders lifted in a shrug. “A little. I just don’t understand how Carrie could enjoy that type of dynamic. I would have to fight the urge to kick you if you told me I wasn’t allowed to speak.”
Michael chuckled. “I understand why that might seem a little extreme to you. But you would be surprised how enjoyable that dynamic can be. Look,” he said turning her head so she could see across the dungeon.
Peter had Carrie spread out over a spanking bench and she was already in the throes of an orgasm.
“That type of back-and-forth turns them both on. Even if Carrie really was pissed at Peter for not letting her talk, she knew it was going to lead to this and that made it enjoyable.”
Adara stared. “I just don’t think I like the whole punishment thing in a relationship.”
“And that’s OK. I’ll never actually try to change your mind about that. I don’t like to think of it as punishment though.”
She leaned closer to him, curious. “So, what would you call it?”
“Guidance. Correction. A reminder that each person in the relationship has a role. If you stray from your role, you might need a less than gentle reminder of what your role is.”
“So, what happens when the dom strays from his role?”
Pride filled him. He loved that she asked questions like this. “Excellent question. In that case, the sub is perfectly within his or her rights to remind the dom of that. It’s better if you do it in a way that falls in the parameters of your role, but you should absolutely bring it to the dom’s attention. That’s part of why it’s so important to negotiate. You want both parties to know what their roles are.”
It was starting to click for her he thought as she nodded in understanding. To say that pleased him would be an understatement.
“How are you feeling now?”
“Better. Thank you.”
“For what? Talking through these things is important. I wouldn’t be doing my job if I weren’t making sure you were comfortable and that you understood everything going on.”
“I know. I just appreciate it.”
He brushed her hair away from her face. “I want to kiss you right now, but I don’t know how you would feel about that.”
He had barely touched her, let alone kissed her, since rescuing her from the airport nearly a week ago. Since she had technically broken up with him, he didn’t want to push her.
To his surprise, she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I would be fine with that. In fact, I think I would be disappointed if you didn’t.”
Relief and desire flooded through him as he leaned in to kiss her. Their lips met and the memory of her taste, the way she felt beneath him, came rushing back. Fisting his hand into her hair, he deepened the kiss. The scent of her shampoo. The taste of her lips. It was enough to undo him. He wanted to strip her down and make love to her here on the couch. The club allowed it, but he doubted she was ready for something like that. Instead, he settled for pulling her closer and sliding his tongue into her mouth. A small gasp escaped her throat when he tugged slightly on her hair. Then, she bit down on his bottom lip and tightened her hold on him. Soon, he tasted his own blood. It wasn’t that he actually cared, it was hot, but he decided to seize the moment to make her squirm. Breaking t
he kiss, he said, “Naughty girl. You bit me.”
“You liked it and you know it.” The retort was quick and sassy.
“Biting and sassing me?” His eyebrow quirked upward. “That would earn you a spanking if you were mine.” A devilish grin spread across his face when she squirmed in his arms. Success.
“Too bad I’m not yours,” she said, the sass still in her tone. She was clearly enjoying this.
“Don’t push your luck, Angel.” She giggled and moved away from him. “No, you don’t,” he said, grabbing her arm and pulling her back to him. “I’m not done with you yet.” His fingers tangled in her hair on either side of her face and he leaned in for another kiss. This time, he nipped her bottom lip hard enough to sting but not draw blood. The moan she let out warmed his insides.
A whip cracked nearby and Adara jumped, breaking the kiss and the tension.
“Damn it, Gary,” Michael growled just loud enough for Adara to hear. She rewarded him with another giggle. Then, to his surprise, she turned to watch Gary as he drew his arm back and flicked the whip across Sara’s back again. Harder this time. Sara jerked in her restraints. But the look on her face was one of pure bliss.
Adara settled back onto the couch still watching the couple. Turning to him she asked, “How do we decide who wins our bet?”
“I would think that’s pretty simple. If you enjoy it, I win. If you hate it, you win.”
“What does it mean for me to enjoy it though?”
“Angel, only you can determine that.”
“So, you’re just going to take my word for it?” She didn’t seem content with that.
“I have to trust you. And you have to trust me. Trust is important to this type of relationship. But, if you want some kind of quantifiable way to measure, orgasms always work.”
“So, if you can make me come you win? That doesn’t seem fair. We already know you know how to make me come.”
“If I can make you come while spanking you then. That’s the thing you think can’t happen right?”
She considered his words. “OK, Mr. Silas. If you can give me at least two orgasms while you’re spanking me, you win.”
“That’s Chief Silas to you, young lady,” he said with a wink. She giggled again and he pulled her close.
“So, when do we do this?”
“Whenever you want, Angel. I told you, you’re controlling this.”
“Ugh. I don’t think I’ll ever pull the trigger if it’s completely up to me.”
“I appreciate that you know that about yourself. Maybe I can help. How about this? The next time you do something I would spank a submissive for, that’s when we’ll do it.”
“I think I can agree to that.”
“I need more than an, ‘I think’, Angel. I’m not going to do anything to you unless you’ve given me complete consent.”
“I want to try this, Michael. You have my consent.”
“Excellent.” He leaned in and kissed her again, but it was cut short when Peter and Carrie approached.
“Hi, Michael. Hi, Adara. Sorry I couldn’t say hello in the car. Master is mean sometimes,” Carrie said with a grin. She was scantily clad in just her bra and panties. Peter growled from behind her and Carrie yelped when his hand landed on her nearly bare ass.
“Want to try that again, little one?”
“I meant to say, Master is so nice. I don’t know how I got so lucky.” She clapped her hands together as she spoke then turned her face up to look at her tall Dom, blinking her eyes flirtatiously.
“Damn right you’re lucky,” he said, snaking his arm around her waist. “You can go put your dress back on. I can tell you’re intent on having a serious conversation with Adara.”
“OK,” she said as she started in the direction of the changing room.
“Excuse me. Try again.” Peter said, stopping her in her tracks.
“I meant yes, Sir. Sorry.”
“Better. Now scoot.”
Peter just shook his head and grinned as Carrie scurried away to change back into her dress. “I sure do love that little hell cat.”
Michael grinned at him. “You certainly won the lottery with her.”
“Amen buddy,” Peter said as he settled onto the couch across from them, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
“And how are you doing, young lady?” His question was directed at Adara.
“I’m pretty good. All things considered.”
“You have a lot of people in your corner. Just know that.”
“I appreciate it. I really do.”
Just then, Carrie came back. Peter pulled her onto the couch next to him and draped his arm around her. She folded her legs under her and laid her head on his shoulder. “How did I get so lucky, you guys?”
Peter chuckled and kissed the top of her head. “I was just asking them the same thing.” She squirmed under his affectionate gaze.
Michael wasn’t generally one for watching other couples get mushy, but he enjoyed watching the two of them. Carrie began to fidget, twisting her fingers together. Peter sighed.
“Go ahead, I know you’re dying to talk shop.”
That was all the prompting she needed. “I’ve been reading your mom’s journal, Adara. I have some suspicions about your birth mother, and I wanted to ask for permission to do some deeper digging.”
“What does deeper digging mean?”
“Mostly looking through old newspapers and records. But it could also mean talking to some people from your parents’ past.”
“I’m OK with that. Anything to get some answers.”
Michael smiled at her and then turned to Carrie. “What’s your theory.”
“We would have just been young kids, but do you remember the yearlong hostage situation in Israel?”
Michael nodded. “I do. My dad was part of the team stateside that arranged the rescue.”
“I think Adara’s birth mother was one of the hostages.”
Adara’s eyes grew wide. “Who?”
“I’m not one hundred percent sure yet. That’s why I wanted your permission to start digging. I have no idea what I’m going to find.”
“I’m OK with you digging. I want answers more than anybody. I can get you some contact information for the family.”
“That sounds great. You can text it to me,” Carrie said.
The two couples settled in to watch as people around them continued to play in the dungeon. Adara occasionally asked questions about something that was happening and the other three did their best to answer them. Some things still confused her, and to be honest, there were things Michael didn’t understand, but he had learned that everyone had their own unique tastes when it came to BDSM, and not everything was for everyone. He was fully prepared for Adara to hate the things he wanted to do with her. But he was certain he could find things that they would both enjoy.
One arm was slung around her shoulders and he was gently running his fingers up and down her neck and shoulders. It didn’t go unnoticed that her breathing had changed, and he wanted to kiss her again. He resisted though as she was watching with rapt attention as a submissive was strapped to a table with a vibrator between her legs. The girl was coming with loud abandon. The dominant, a woman, turned the vibrating wand up higher and her submissive let out a scream that caused Adara to jump. Michael chuckled then leaned in and whispered, “I have one of those at home.” Adara’s eyes flew to his and his head fell back in laughter at her shock.
“You’ve used it on other people?” she finally managed to ask, clearly horrified.
“I have. But for one, the cap is replaceable. And two, I always put a condom over it.”
“That’s still weird.”
“I’ll buy a new one just for you. We can get them here in fact.”
“I’m good thanks,” she said with her nose wrinkled.
“We’ll see.” His fingers went back to tracing lines up and down her neck. This time, she brushed his hand away.
He s
lid his hand into her hair and turned her head upward, so she was looking him in the eyes. “If you were mine, I would spank you for that. You would get exactly one warning and then you would be across my knee. Consider this your warning. If you want something to stop, you tell me. Don’t just brush me away.”
He watched her throat working as she swallowed hard. “Just nod your head, Angel. So, I know you heard me.” Her head bobbed up and down, her eyes wide. Not from fear though.
“Good girl.” He planted a kiss on her forehead.
She huffed and folded her arms across her chest, seeming irritated.
“What’s wrong, Angel?”
“Nothing.”
“Don’t lie to me.” His voice took on a stern tone.
Finally, she huffed and said, “I just hate losing. And damn it, I’m pretty sure I’m going to lose our bet.
Chapter Eight
Adara stared with her bottom lip pushed out as Michael howled with laughter. Peter and Carrie looked at the two of them as if they had grown horns.
Adara blushed when Michael pulled her close and said, “You’re delightful, Angel.”
Peter stood, pulling Carrie up with him. “Should we move to the bar and get a drink?”
Adara couldn’t stand quickly enough. “That sounds wonderful.”
The foursome moved to the bar area where Peter ordered whiskey for everyone, and they found a small table to sit at.
“I don’t know why, based on everything I’ve read, I wasn’t expecting a place like this to serve alcohol.”
“A lot don’t,” said Peter. “But we prefer to treat our members like adults. We do have rules in place about not getting drunk. And we have monitors on duty throughout the club who are allowed to make a judgment call and ask members to leave if they are being disruptive.”
“Not to mention, we vet our members carefully,” Michael added.
Adara thought it was curious that Peter was saying ‘we’. Peter and Carrie technically lived in California now. Though from what she understood, they had been founding members of the club along with Darci, Gary, and a few others she had met. Michael wasn’t far behind them. Aside from her, Bradley was one of the newer members of the club. OK, so she wasn’t actually a member yet, but it was on her mind to change that. Power exchange still confused her, but she loved the vibe she got from being in this place. Everyone was so accepting and welcoming.