“It is a power thing, but I’m not the one with the power. It’s the submissive who holds it all,” I simply stated. Her mouth flew opened. “Don’t look so shocked. My girl holds all the power. It’s my job to bring it out in her.” I shrugged my shoulder and winked. “Then I get the fun of molding that power to fit my will.”
She didn’t look down at her long list of basic questions. She let her heart lead her instead. “How does beating someone give them the power? It sounds like abuse to me.”
“I do enjoy the handcuffs and whips, but it’s simply a tool to show the submissive how much power she has in her.”
She shook her head fervently. “How? I still don’t understand.”
I’ll soon show you, Babe. But I’ll settle with trying to explain for now. “The best part of a BDSM relationship is total trust. Everyone involved knows where each other stands. It’s the ultimate freedom.”
“I don’t understand.” She moved to the edge of the cushion and started to stroke her hand over her thigh, working the hem of her skirt up to expose a sliver of that sensual upper leg. I licked my lips. She let the paper holding her questions fall to the ground. I had her complete and undivided attention.
“A true Master is not a man, or in some cases a woman, that likes to fuck hard or control. People like that are asses. It’s also illegal and called abuse. A proper Dom is a person that, no matter what, will be there for you. Not just sexually, but emotionally and physically. He’s not a sub’s abuser, but her ultimate comforter. Likewise with a sub, she has an inner need to please her Master. No matter where they are or what they are doing, the simple tone of his voice makes her body alert and willing to obey his every wish. Whether it’s to pour him a glass of water or suck his cock.” I paused as she flinched.
I leaned over, and for the first time brushed my hand over her soft skin as I pushed her hair behind her ear. “There is nothing abusive and controlling about BDSM. It’s no more than two people trying to discover what makes their souls soar.”
“You wouldn’t force me . . .” She coughed and corrected herself. “You’ve never forced a sub to do anything she didn’t want to do?”
Oh, Beautiful, I will do more than force you. “I’ve never forced a woman to do anything she didn’t want to do. I’m just very gifted at getting her to do whatever I desire.”
“What do you desire? Power.”
You.
“I do love the power exchange between a sub and her Dom. Having a strong woman release the power in her totally for my enjoyment is a feeling like no other.” I eased down on the couch until I was next to her and nudged my nose in her hair. “Do you want to know power, sweet Cherry? Do you want to know what it’s like to call me Master?” I whispered in her ear. She shivered.
“I could never let you hurt me?” she said, her voice came out in a soft stammer.
We sat there in silence, me breathing in her scent. I didn’t know what she was thinking. I just knew that Cherry Webb excited me and scared the hell out of me all at the same damn time. Pain and Cherry. Think, Drake.
“Parts of BDSM does involve pain. Some people thrive on it; both subs and Doms. But that’s not all it is. Do you read?”
She nodded and involuntarily tilted her head, giving access to her long, graceful neck. "It’s not all kink, depraved, and dirty.” I lightly placed my lips on the vein throbbing in her neck and kissed it. “In your books, when the hero makes love to the woman and holds her hands above her head while he fucks her and sucks her breast, that is straight up BDSM. However, people don’t want to admit that they may actually like to dip their toes in the muddy waters of this lifestyle. You would be shocked to see me in my everyday life. I have people I see on a daily basis that would never dream I would step foot in a place like this much less own it. I bet if you dig deep enough, the thought of being controlled and letting a man have total ownership of your pleasure causes your skin to tingle.”
I moved back from her. She was aroused, and the smell coming off her was intoxicating. I would never risk feeling for a woman.
“People BDSM in everyday life, they just don't recognize it. I'll give you an example. Two girls share an apartment. One wants to go out clubbing, so she persuades her friend to go. That's straight up domination and submission. Here's how so. The clubbing friend knew her friend, once there, would have a great time. She just needed a wee push to get her out, dominance. The other one wanted to use the excuse she was persuaded into it when really she knew she would go anyway, submission.” I got up and shrugged off my sports coat, hanging it over the back of the couch. “Want something to drink?”
She nodded. I walked over to the bar and dropped two ice cubes into a glass. “Water, please,” she said.
I poured my favorite whiskey over the ice and fetched a bottle of Evian water out of the small fridge under the bar. “Do you understand now?”
When I turned around she had her arms wrapped around her sensuous frame. She looked out over the horizon. The sun was setting, causing it to cast a sea of colors over the polished hardwood floors. She was watching a mirror across the room as if it were a prism when she got a glimpse of the numerous hooks dangling from the ceiling. She flinched and scooped up the fallen set of questions moments ago she had disregarded.
“I still don’t understand. How can you classify the act of passionate lovemaking with the same act that uses chains and belts?” she asked then sipped on a bit of water.
I sat across from her and crossed my legs, resting my glass on my left knee. “Take the couple in the novel that we talked about.” I held up my index finger to emphasize the point. “B is for bondage. He held her hands together. No, not with handcuffs, but with the force of his own hand.” I held up my first two fingers. “D is for domination. He’s in control and being the dominating one.” I held up a third finger. “S is for submission. She is submitting under his control.” I leaned forward and smiled as she rubbed her thighs together. “Submitting is often an amazing aphrodisiac, Mrs. Webb,” I whispered. She wiggled and adjusted the papers in her lap. Not to get her to crawl totally up in her self-made shell, I held up a fourth finger and continued. “S and M is for Sadism and Masochism. That is the missing element in my little anecdote. But it does not have to be in this lifestyle at all. It’s the extreme that people focus on. But it’s only a small sliver of what our lifestyle is about.”
“What is it about then?”
“The best lifestyle in the world. First you have to have complete and honest communication with your partner. Name one couple in a vanilla relationship that has total trust, feels completely safe, and has the utmost respect for each other. Those are the basic fundamentals of BDSM.”
“But no love?” she asked, and started to tap her pen against her opened notebook.
“Who needs love?” Somehow, I still don’t know how, but I managed to curl my lip in to some semblance of a smile.
“Have you ever loved someone special?” She stared down at the notes in her lap and knotted her fingers around her pen.
“I’m incapable of love.”
“You’ve never loved anyone?”
“You can’t love what you can’t have.” You have to have emotions to love. I won’t risk feeling for anyone.
“You can have most anyone.” Her voice was so soft my ears barely registered a sound.
Except, sweet. I didn’t get to have someone like her. Sweet and innocent. “Can I have you, sweet Cherry?”
She scooted to the curve in the sectional. The silence was deafening. I stood up to replenish my drink when the sight of her curling one long piece of hair around and around her pinky caught my eye. I couldn’t stop watching her as she studied her prewritten questions. She cleared her throat.
“What led you to discover the BDSM lifestyle?” she asked, looking up at me with a look of pure innocence.
“I think we’ve already covered that question, but the short answer about who led me to this amazing lifestyle is Billy.” I started to tell the sto
ry when the familiar chime of the intercom buzzed.
“Master, your class is ready to start when you are,” Kelly announced. I glanced back at Cherry who looked shocked and stunned. I had purposely planned the interview close to one of my beginner’s classes, knowing that unmet expectation was a big turn on for most women. However, I didn’t want it to end. I found myself fascinated with each of Cherry’s facial expressions, the way she twisted just about everything through her fingers, the nervous little twitch of her ear. I wanted more of her.
“Cherry, I really have to go. Would you like to sit in? It’s a class for beginner Doms,” I asked and put back on my sports coat.
She started gathering her stuff together and shook her head. Damn, I didn’t want her to leave. “Tomorrow night, I have no other commitments. Say around seven?”
She laid her briefcase in her lap and smiled up at me. For that brief moment, I swore my long lost frozen heart thawed. “Seven, sounds great, Mr.” She paused and held out her hand to shake mine.
I almost let my name slip, but luckily regained my facade. “Seven, Mrs. Webb.” I brought her hand to my lips and softly kissed it.
Cherry Webb
Meet me at the Pier. Good things always seem to happen at the Pier and you, Mrs. Webb, are a GOOD thing. Yours, Sir
I stuffed the card back into the daisies it was safely nestled into. Sir might be a mystery, but he was making it a gift worth opening.
After a hair appointment at my favorite salon, an hour in the makeup chair, and seven outfit changes, I was finally ready to meet Sir to finish our interview. I know it was a professional interview, but nothing had felt more personal. I was as nervous as my wedding day. For the first time in years, Sir made me feel simply like a beautiful woman - a woman that a man could desire.
Sir said to meet him at seven sharp and something told me he expected his orders to be followed to the letter. Despite my need to hurry, I drove to the restaurant at exactly the speed limit. My stomach was churning fast enough to make up for my lack of speed. When I arrived at the restaurant, I giggled. Why? I had no idea, other than my nerves were shot.
I walked in not knowing what to do. Would he be waiting for me? Was I to wait for him? So I was immediately shocked when the attendant knew who I was and ushered me to the back room Sir was already waiting in.
“Good evening, Mrs. Webb.” He clasped my hand, bringing it to his lips. “Your name might be Mrs. Webb, but stunning is what I want to call you. You look simply breathtaking.”
I instantly blushed and felt my cheeks burn. He was the one that took my breath away. He was wearing a pale red twine suit with a gray flannel shirt accented with a dark gray tie. It was a suit I would normally classify as nerdy, but Sir wore it with a flair that turned it into pure sex appeal. “Thank you, Sir.”
I didn’t feel stunning at all, more impoverished. Compared to the other women I passed by in the restaurant. They were dripping in jewels and wore only the finest of clothes. I’ve never eaten anywhere so swanky. We ordered, and I got the feeling that the crew knew who Sir was, and they gave him the respect he deserved. He smiled and waved the waiter away. “Where were we? Oh, yes, how I came to be a Dom. First of all, I truly believe I was born for the role, but my first experience in this world was thanks to my brother, Billy. He is older than me and opened the first Dungeon when I was still wet at both ends. So he saw it fitting for my eighteenth birthday to have a small party for me there.”
I gasped at the thought that someone would think it was normal to take an eighteen-year-old to such a place. Sir laughed.
“My family is not the normal family. We have different views on most subjects.” He smirked. “Sex has never been a subject my family hid from.”
A woman suddenly barged into the room. Her blonde hair was pulled loosely into a side braid; a black streak interrupted the smooth wave of the curl falling down the side of her face. I tried not to stare, but she made it impossible. She wore her confidence like fine diamonds. Her steely blue eyes targeted my grotesque self before she turned back, and placed her hand on Sir’s shoulder. “I didn’t expect you tonight, Master.”
It didn’t escape me that she called him Master, not Sir. Master was reserved for his submissive. Sir’s sharp, harsh voice drew my attention. “It was not for you to know. This is for pleasure, not business.”
I sat up straight in my seat and blossomed under Sir’s watchful glare. He said pleasure, not business. Did he mean it? Or was it a tactic to get rid of Mrs. Beautiful, Classy, and Overbearing. Surely, he wouldn’t pick someone like me over someone like her.
“Cherry,” he gestured to the slim, fit blonde. "Meet Jenny.” He gestured back to me. “Jenny, my date Cherry.”
She extended her hand out to shake mine in a well-practiced, cold move. Her hard, severe face lit with a sudden interest. “Sir, I didn’t know you dated?”
I gulped, beaming at the shift in greeting from Master to Sir.
Sir grew ever impatient. “You only know what I want you to know. Which is very little.”
“Oh.” Jenny glared at me once more. “Have fun on your little date.”
I was amused at how her speech was so polite, but still how each word dripped with insult. It had to be a talent she was born with. I could never have learned it. No matter how much I practiced.
“It was still good to see you.” Jenny kissed Sir’s cheek and then proceeded to rub her lipstick off with the pad of her thumb. “Sorry, to interrupt,” she added before leaving.
“Sorry about that, I meet a lot of people that if tied to a spanking bench, spanked until their asses are red and sensitive, then fucked senseless would do them a world of good. She is one of those people.”
“Does she know your name?” I was getting too wrapped up in that man, and the fact I didn’t even know his name perturbed me.
“No, she doesn’t. Three people at the club know my name. Billy, Kelly the office manager, and my first.”
He held up three fingers, and I copied him. He laughed. “Put the fingers away because you’re really making me want to bite them.” Any trace of humor was void from his face. “Hard.”
I pushed my hands under the table and rounded off my shoulders. The stare he glared at me let me know I could easily submit to his every whim.
“Now where were we? Oh, yes, my first night at The Dungeon. Billy blindfolded me before we even entered the building. He led me down three sets of stairs. I’d been before.” He raised an eyebrow. “Only when it was closed. We run a respectable and legal business.”
He started to tap his fork against the table, obviously agitated. It was shocking that I could make a man like Sir nervous.
“I knew we were in the party room. It’s unreal what having a sense taken away does for the other four. They go in hyper mode.”
“The party room?” Yes, I couldn’t keep up.
“It’s a large room in the basement where different scenes are set up for groups to use.” He placed his hand over mine. “Now, no questions. Listen. He backed me up to a hard beam and tied my hands and feet to the wall. He left. Anticipation is the biggest aphrodisiac.”
We heard a tap at the door leading into the room, followed by two waiters with our food. Sir didn’t speak or even acknowledge me as they served each plate as if they were waiting on royalty. I had to be honest; I didn’t like Sir at that moment. He had slipped on a pair of glasses and examined each morsel as if he was a warden and the food was an unruly inmate. Was he always that hard? After finishing his inspection, he waved them away as if they were trash then smiled up at me.
“Do you always treat people like that?” I caught myself leaning across the table and closer to him, almost as if he willed me.
“You have to be hard in business. Conquer or be conquered. I chose to conquer.” He took off his glasses and snatched the paper holding my notes off the table.
“Let’s see, do I ever wear costumes?”
He looked over at me and rolled his eyes. I melted under his s
tare and slumped in the chair.
“Sit up,” he demanded. I did. “I hate when people think we automatically all dress-up as gimps and such. No offense if it’s your thing, but I have not or will not wear a pair of leather pants or silly Halloween costume.”
I fisted the piece of paper he was holding in my hand. “Those are mine.”
I pulled on the papers, causing them to rip. He balled them up and threw the papers across the room. “Now, ask what is on your mind and not some silly prewritten questions. I want to know what you’re thinking.”
“Finish the story about your first time.” I nervously laughed. “You didn’t do your brother did you?” My skin heated up as the blood drained from my face.
“How did you know?” He couldn’t even finish his sentence for laughing.
“Lucky guess.” I tapped my fingers over his hands. I liked the playful Sir.
Inhaling a sharp intake of air, he tilted his head as his eyes closed. I could almost feel the current coming off his body. “I had hung there for well over half an hour and can still hear the click of her heels as she approached. My jaw instantly clenched as each step got closer.”
“Did you know who she was?”
“No. I had no idea. I trusted my brother though, but it still didn’t keep my hands from fisting to reveal my palms had moistened. My pulse skyrocketed. I’d never felt more alive. I felt her body within inches of mine, then her nose tap against my cheek. I thought she was going to kiss me, but she softly licked my lips instead. I was no virgin, but my cock had never been harder. It ached. I started begging her to touch it. She clicked her tongue in a very scolding tone, and scraped a pair of long nails across my chest as she started unbuttoning my shirt. She worked toward the band on my pants. Her finger barely grazed the head of my dick when she started to work back up my chest again. Then she was gone.”
I realized I had started drawing circles on my thigh with the tip of my finger. I blushed and thanked the good Lord we were alone when I noticed my skirt was gaping open by my involuntarily spread legs.