RecipeforSubmission (11 page)

He grinned.

Which means he planned that from the moment he saw me
here. The panties, the wine, the food, everything was all part of his plan. And
he made sure everything was safe, even when I didn’t look out for myself.
Yes, it was definitely feeling warm in the restaurant. She felt the worries
slide away from her. She set her fork down, picked up some salmon with her
fingers and stretched out her tongue to lick the pink morsel from her fingers
into her mouth, meeting his eyes as she mmmm’d softly.

She was going to come if he kept it up, she knew that. But
she was determined to move. She’d have to try to remain quiet when the time
came. She could always bite her lip. Her hips twitched toward him, eager for
more friction on her clit than she was getting, despite her intentions of
staying still. She took in a sharp breath. So close now. A little more.

He grinned. “But I mustn’t distract you from your food.
It’ll wreck your appetite.” She felt his foot move away, then heard a clunk as
his heel hit the floor.

She stared at him, gritting her teeth to stop from moaning.
He
knows exactly how close I am.

“And I wouldn’t want to leave you hungry.”

“Bastard,” she muttered.

“I’ll assume you said ‘Master’, because I’d hate to have to
punish you for what I thought you said. You know that I’ll see to all of your
needs before the night is through. Trust me, it will be a memorable one.”

Trust me.
To Kyra’s surprise, she did. There was only
one thing she trusted herself to say, however. “Yes, Master.”

Drew leaned back, looking as satisfied as she’d seen any man
ever be. He stayed like that for a long several seconds. She watched him as she
finished the last few bites of her meal, unused to seeing any man look that
happy with her. Then he blinked and the look was gone, replaced by an
unreadable poker face.

Maybe you don’t want me to know you’re pleased. But I
know. And I
will
see that look again.

Chapter Seven

Drew knew he’d made a mistake. He’d had things so planned
out. He’d even, on the off chance, called Ken up and booked a session at the
club. On the regular party nights, the place was jammed and it wasn’t always
easy to get the right piece of equipment. But Ken let people rent the place
when there wasn’t a party going on—better to make a little money than let it
sit idle. It normally would be expensive to have the whole place to himself and
Kyra, but Ken owed him a few favors. Drew had helped put together some of the
pieces of bondage furniture in the club, and because of that, he already had a
key.

But he’d let her call him Master. He’d encouraged it, even,
after she’d called him a bastard. He never let a sub call him that, lest she
get ideas that he had something more permanent in mind. And he’d explained to
Kyra the difference between a slave and a sub a few days ago. He wondered if
she remembered. She was sharp, and he was willing to bet she did. He ought to
clarify himself right then and there, but it would destroy the mood. That
hadn’t stopped him before when a sub started demanding from him more than he
was willing to give. But everything had gone so well since he’d spotted Kyra in
Ryan’s and had formulated his plan. He wasn’t willing to mess it up now, even
if it meant trouble later.

Maybe
, said a voice inside him,
that’s because
you’re going to let this one have a piece of your heart.

Not bloody likely.

He stood, holding out a hand to her. “Come.” He kept his
voice level, not daring to let any emotion in it lest he come across too hard
or too soft.

She stood, placing her hand in his and smiling. For someone
he’d teased to the very brink of orgasm she seemed remarkably content. “Yes,
Master.” Her hand felt soft and small and surprisingly relaxed as he closed his
own meaty fist around it.

He led her out of Ryan’s and toward his pickup. This time
she didn’t make a comment when he lifted her into the cab, but he thought he
saw another smile as his hand briefly held her backside.
Nice soft ass.
He loved a girl with curves.

Not until they were five blocks away did she ask where they
were going. She’d probably expected him to head toward his Kalorama home, not
south toward Carpe Noctem. “Someplace fun,” he told her. He expected her to
argue. She didn’t. She leaned back in the seat and closed her eyes. He focused
on his driving. Looking over at her was too tempting.

She’d opened her eyes again by the time Drew pulled up to
the club. He pulled right into Ken’s space since Ken wasn’t going to be there.
“I thought the place only ran on Friday nights.”

“There’s parties on Saturday nights too, but they’re run by
a local group and you have to be a member to go to their parties. Mondays and
Thursdays a group of pro Dommes rent it. Tonight, however, we have it all to
ourselves.” He grabbed his bag of toys from the back of the cab and got out of
the truck.

“What’s a pro Domme?” asked Kyra. She’d hopped out before he
could come around to help her.

“Professional Dominatrix,” Drew explained as he took her
hand. They walked toward the club together. Holding hands reminded him of being
a teenager, before he’d discovered the world of kink. He shut that out and
tried to refocus on the question. “There’s a huge number of male submissives,
but you won’t see very many at parties because their odds of getting what they
are looking for are pretty low if they come unattached. There aren’t enough
women who prefer the dominant role. As a result, some men pay for the privilege
of being spanked or abused or whatever. The law of supply and demand.”

Kyra chuckled but her eyes looked serious. Maybe even
annoyed. Drew wondered what nerve he’d hit, but he didn’t have to wonder long.
“Why is it abuse when a woman’s on top, but a bit of fun when it’s you?”

Ah, so that was it. “It isn’t. It’s abuse when it’s abuse,
no matter who does it. And frankly, male submissives are more likely to use
that word to describe what they want, and maybe that means their use of the
word is wrong. For everyone, there is a line not to be crossed, and maybe
that’s when it becomes abuse, but I do know that a lot of what other people do
crosses my lines for myself. There are things I won’t do. And as much as I’d
like not to judge other people’s kink, there are some things I won’t condone.”
He opened the door for her but she hesitated. It was pitch-black inside, so
that was understandable. He went in ahead of her, found the light switch to the
right of the door and flicked the lights on. There was a hum as power surged
through the overhead fluorescents. He’d always tuned out the sound in a crowd
of people but it seemed loud now. He made a mental note to tell Ken to have the
ballasts checked sometime.

It didn’t seem to bother Kyra, who stepped in as soon as the
room was illuminated. Drew shut the door behind her, and locked it.

“What sort of things wouldn’t you do?” she asked.

He chuckled. “Lots of things. Jump from an airplane without
a parachute. But that’s not what you meant.” He considered it, aware she was
watching him. Was she interested for her book, or simply because she wanted to
be reassured about the answer? “Some stuff is plain gross. And I won’t do
verbal abuse. There’s that word again. If someone submits to me, I treasure
that, and I’m not going to tell them that they’re sinful or somehow any less
because of their desires. And I won’t do anything that I wouldn’t be willing to
have done to me.”

“Well, some things are physically impossible to do to you,
and I’ve already experienced you doing some of them to me.” Kyra grinned at
him.

“Point.” He led her into the main room of the club. Without
a party going on, the whole place looked even bigger than it normally did.

“You
are
only a man, after all,” Kyra said. She
withdrew her hand from his, giggled, and took off at a run. Not toward the
exit, but across the big, empty floor in the middle.

He shook his head, grinned, heaved his bag and sent it skidding
across the floor toward where he intended to play with her, and then gave
chase. She ran around a spanking bench, then hid behind an X-frame, and no doubt
would dart whichever way he didn’t go around. He knew he’d get her in the long
run. If he didn’t miss his guess, she was catching her breath even now, and he
ran 10Ks four times a year. He thought about faking one way and catching her
when she ran the other, but she seemed to be having fun. So he lumbered to the
left. As expected she ran the other way. Most of the tables and chairs had been
put away to the sides, so she couldn’t use those. She dodged around the sofa
near the middle of the room, grabbed a hitching post as she went past to help
her make a tight turn along the far wall, and ran until she got behind a waxing
table.

Not willing to appear to be fooled by the same trick twice,
he went straight through the middle this time, jumping up on the spanking bench
and grabbing for her. She ducked and ran along to her right along the wall,
toward the swing. Right near his toy bag.

Perfect.
He put on a burst of speed and caught her
around the waist. “I’ve got you now.”

She struggled for a fraction of a second before relaxing
back in his arms. “So you do. What are you going to do with me?”

“First, I’m going to rip your clothes off.”

She leaned back and smiled at him, breathing hard. “Would
you like me to scream?”

“Only if you want to.” He took hold of one side of the
collar of her blouse and yanked down and away. The buttons popped in rapid
succession, and only one of them came off entirely. Drew made note of where it
rolled. He’d sew it on later, if she wanted him to.

“Eek,” she murmured softly.

He undid her bra and cupped her breasts. Running around had
cooled his ardor, but now his cock was swelling again. Her breasts were soft
and heavy in his hands. He felt her nipples harden against his palm. He didn’t
think his hands were cold.

“Mmmmm, Master,” she purred, leaning back into him. “Am I a
bad girl for running like that?”

“No. It was fun. It
is
fun.”

“I was kind of wondering if maybe I needed to be punished.”
She looked up at him.

“And what did you decide?”

“That it isn’t my decision.”

“Maybe you need to be rewarded for being fun and letting me
catch you.”
Let, my foot.
He was sure she was running full tilt from the
way she had been catching her breath. But she seemed to have recovered now.

“Hmmm. What would I get if I was being punished?”

“A spanking.”

“And for a reward?”

He grinned. “A spanking.”

She twisted in his grasp and he decided to let her, although
his arms still encircled her. The friction of her body against his was
delicious. “So what’s the difference?” she asked.

He laughed. “You’re learning.” He picked her up and over his
shoulder. Her long hair brushed against his back and her feet kicked in front
of him. “I wouldn’t struggle if I were you, you’re not getting free, and if I
dropped you it would probably hurt.” He set her against the swing. It wasn’t
designed primarily for someone to be ass-skyward in it, but he knew it would
work well enough. He placed her so her stomach was against the “seat”, which
was about three times as wide as a child’s swing. Her breasts dangled over one
edge, nicely available to him. He attached her wrists to the cuffs above and
her ankles to the cuffs below. Her legs were spread that way and her pussy was
visible over the edge of the seat. Lovely. She had to arch her back to get
comfortable with the way the cuffs were placed, but he didn’t expect her to
have any trouble for the short time he was going to keep her in that position.

Still, he asked. Better safe than sorry. “You okay?”

“Yes.” As an afterthought, “Sir.”

Now why did I want her to say
Master
, instead?
Habit carried him forward, so he didn’t linger on it. He couldn’t afford to get
lost in his own headspace when he had a lovely lady like Kyra at his mercy and
needing his attention. “If at any time any part of you feels numb or tingly,
you let me know, okay? Especially your extremities, your hands and your feet.”

“Yes Sir.”

Did the words represent pulling back for her? Or did she
remember what he wanted to be called and was trying to please him? He didn’t
know. She’d say her safe word if she really wanted to pull back, he supposed.
“You remember your safe word?”

Kyra nodded and shivered. “Yes Sir.”

“Cold?” He massaged her ass, warming it up.

“Anxious. It actually feels, um, rather warm in here.”

“Thank goodness it’s summer. On the other hand, in the
winter I wouldn’t take you here alone. The place needs a crowd to keep it
warm.” He leaned forward, nestling the bulge in his jeans in the crack of her
ass and spreading his body over her back. The swing naturally moved her
forward. He reached around, cupped her nice, full breasts, and pulled her back.
She’d get her spanking. It would have to wait for a few minutes, because he had
a devilish urge he wanted to make sure she was ready for.

He stroked the peaks of her breasts, teasing them to
hardness. Her areolas bunched up and felt deliciously bumpy to his fingertips,
a sharp contrast with the smoothness of the skin around them. She purred. All
the while he flexed and straightened his knees, swinging her back and forth
softly. When his fingers closed in around her nipples and squeezed, she jumped,
the chains that held the swing clanking at the sudden movement. The weight of
his torso held her in place.

“Good or bad, Kyra?”

“Bad! Well, good. I—”

He gave her a moment to finish, and let her go only when it
was clear she wasn’t going to. The little moan of disappointment told him what
he wanted to know.