Stripped

My mind was
racing, my heart feeling heavy yet light all at the same time. To say that I
was stunned and confused was an understatement. I felt as though my scattered
thoughts were trapped behind a thick wall, unable to penetrate the barrier, muffled
and strained, leaving me feeling breathless and weak.

I was a
complete and absolute wreck.

I’d just
returned home from a BDSM club, having been taken there by my dominant partner,
Jake, as his newly trained submissive. While I knew what was planned, nothing
had really prepared me for what happened. It had been determined that I’d be
shared with the club’s owner, Chase, in a rope play session that sent me into
some altered state, I found myself caught up in a powerful wave of pleasure,
that was only matched by the crescendo of pain that immediately followed. 

All that remained now were a
series of splintered thoughts, broken memories coming together all at once in
an attempt to make sense of every emotion that ran through my heated body.

That, and an angry pattern of
red marks spread across my torso, arms and legs; the evidence of Chase’s
incredible expertise with ropes.

I was certainly a changed woman,
barely recognizing my former self, a plus size woman ashamed by her curves yet
wanting desperately to be claimed…and I was.  They had both made sure of
that.

It was shocking to think that I’d
allowed myself to be tied down, arms to the side, legs spread open and my most
private parts exposed, by someone I’d just met, and more amazing, that I’d
enjoyed every minute of the experience. The session had ended in one of the
most explosive sexual encounters of my life, my body and mind being thoroughly
claimed by the aggressive Chase, while Jake watched. The parts that were still
vivid in my mind, the scenes that played over and over, were of Chase’s meticulous
attention to the knots he tied to restrain me, the almost trance-like state he
fell into while he tied beautiful and complex knots in the white rope. His soft
voice as he asked me periodically how I felt, the care with which he restrained
me.

The last clear image of him, the
one I held in my mind’s eye, the one that still caused a resounding thump deep
inside of me, was Chase standing between my legs, naked, his muscular body
tensed, his cock rising up from the thatch of lightly dusted hair between his
thighs.
And the look of untamed lust in his eyes.

The final coherent thought I had
before he claimed me was that he was going to break me like a wild stallion and
that I would love every minute of it.

I’ve only been a submissive for a
short time, and I know that I have a lot to learn but I am willing to go the
distance, and to do all that my Masters requests of me. With Jake, our few
sessions, for the most part, had been highly controlled. I struggled at first
with being a sub; disobeying twice, disciplined once by Jake, much to my shame.

But with Chase, I’d had no desire
to disobey. I wanted to give myself completely, submit totally to him. I don’t
know if it’s Jake’s inexperience or his own tight control on himself that made
being with Chase so different, almost easy.

I was still thinking about it all
when Jake called late Sunday night, as he’d promised during the car ride back
to my apartment after our session at the club. Jake had told me this morning,
after I’d spent the night with him, that the session with Chase had made him
realize that he loved me, and that he’d crossed a line both of us had agreed
on: our relationship, no matter how intimate, existed for only one reason
– to explore the boundaries of our own limitations and to face our own
darkest desires together. Neither of us had wanted this to go any further than
the context of a dominant, submissive relationship. Jake’s declaration had
shifted that balance in our relationship and I still wondered just how much it
would affect our sessions, or how I really felt about his truth. I still wanted
Jake as my dominant; we’d come a long way together, and I wanted to explore
that dominant, submissive relationship further, with him.

But, at what cost?

Jake had told me that business
required that he attend a series of meetings throughout different cities and
that he’d be away for a few weeks.

“I’ll miss you, Abby. Not just
our sessions, but spending time with you during the week.”

I’d told him I’d miss him as
well, and I meant it. Jake had become an important part of my life in the few
short weeks I’d known him. He’d changed me and I treasured that, and him, for
making it happen.

But after I’d hung up, I wandered
around my apartment, a restlessness running up and down my spine. Jake was
going to be out of town. Before we’d visited the club, before Chase had entered
the picture, I had been anxious at the prospect of a week without Jake.
But
not anymore…

Then it hit me: I wanted to see
Chase. And I wanted to see him alone. I shouldn’t be surprised, but did I
really want to admit that to myself? There was something magnetic about Chase;
he was an undeniably primal and aggressive man. And I wanted to experience that
again, explore where he could take me, as a submissive, and as a woman.

Chase had left a message on my
phone after the session, ostensibly telling me I’d left a necklace behind, but
also telling me he wanted to see me again.

I hit replay, my breath catching
in my throat at the sound of his voice. I jotted down the number and then
impulsively dialed. It was answered almost instantly, Chase’s smooth voice
rumbling in my ear.

“Hi, Chase, this is Abby.” I
stopped short of saying ‘we met last night’. I was pretty sure Chase would
remember me.

“Hey Abby! I’m glad you called.
How are you?”

His voice was just as I
remembered it, deep and sexy, open and sincere. It settled over me, soothing
some of the tension that consumed my body. It also brought back a rush of heat
at the thought of his hands squeezing my breasts, the soft bite of the ropes that
he’d tied around my body, the feeling of his thick cock buried deep inside of
me. I quickly gripped the edge of the kitchen counter, a brief wave of vertigo
washing over me.

“Abby? You there?”

“Um, yeah…I…the phone cut out for
a minute.” I took a deep breath.
“I appreciate you calling to let me
know that my collar was at the club. I’d like to come by and pick it up if
that’s okay?”

“Absolutely. It’s a really nice
piece, that’s for sure. I’m assuming it’s from Jake?”

I closed my eyes; the sound of Jake’s
name drove a tiny sliver of guilt through my heart. I shook my head; this
wasn’t fair. We didn’t have that sort of relationship.

So, why did I feel so damn
guilty?

“Yes, it’s from Jake. I guess it
wasn’t such a good idea to wear it to your club.”

“It’s actually my fault. I
apologize for not remembering to give it back. I slipped it in the pocket of my
jeans during our scene together.”

There was a pause. Chase spoke
again and his voice washed over me, that hypnotic, low growl that carried so
much power, such delicious control.

“You enjoyed yourself, didn’t
you? You surprised yourself as well.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement of
fact.

I closed my eyes, images of last
night washing over me. “Yes, I…had… it was intense, Chase. Really
intense.”  I barely recognized my own voice; it had a broken desperation
in it that I’d never heard before.

There was quiet breathing on the
other end of the phone. “I’m glad. It was quite…enjoyable for me as well.” The
image of Chase between my bound legs, his cock thrust into me, the rapt look on
his face before I gave in to the experience came back to me with a rush.

A deep jolt hit me, low in my
belly, a sucker punch of arousal. I wasn’t expecting that. There was another
pang of guilt that wound itself around me. Until now, only Jake had made me
feel this aroused. I shook my head, opening my eyes, focusing on the view outside
of my window. Focus on the sun, buildings, anything but the images of desire that
floated around in my mind, dominating my every thought.

The spell was suddenly broken.
“I’d like to get my necklace back, Chase.”

“And I want to see you again, Abby.”

That wasn’t what I said.

“You can drop by the club Monday
night. The club is closed, but I’ll be there doing paperwork, there’s minimal
staff doing cleaning. We’ll have privacy. Just give me a time and I’ll meet you
at the street door. Do you need the address?”

After I hung up, I wandered
around the apartment, that restless feeling back, stronger this time. My
muscles were still sore; the fading rope marks on my forearms and thighs a
visible reminder of everything that had happened the night before. I found
myself unconsciously rubbing them, touching them, and remembering the feeling
of them holding me down, restricting me but freeing me at the same time.
Remembering the intense sexual feelings Chase had elicited in me, rekindled at
the sound of Chase’s low, husky voice.

It had been Jake’s idea to visit
the club; he’d thought it would bring us closer. In a way it had; he’d told me
he loved me. But it had also opened a new door for me, an unexpected door. I
wanted to step through that doorway, to find out just how far I wanted to go as
a submissive. How far I really
could
go.

And in my mind, waiting in that
doorway was Chase.

***

Just like I had imagined, there he
was waiting for me, in the doorway of his club on Monday night. I pulled to the
curb at the appointed time and the door opened instantly, Chase’s frame
silhouetted by the light shining behind him.

He greeted me with affection,
depositing a kiss on each cheek. The sensual contact of his soft lips grazing
my skin sent a violent shiver of desire through me and I trembled in the frame
of his heated gaze.

“Come on in, but you’ll have to
excuse the mess. Monday is cleaning day, if I hadn’t mentioned it on the phone.”
The club was brightly lit, almost garish looking. Chairs in the lounge were
pulled away from the tables, trash cans and other cleaning items were scattered
about. I could hear talking and laughter from down the hall, the occasional
sound of furniture moving, a vacuum running.

“I have your necklace in my
office, safe and sound. Follow me.” Chase led the way, guiding me through the
lounge, heading towards the back rooms. I couldn’t keep myself from scanning
his muscular frame, taking in his strong, broad shoulders and the way his jeans
rested low on his hips.  He wore a simple cotton shirt, open at the throat
and dark brown cowboy boots and the attire was so incongruous with his
surroundings, so completely different from the Chase I’d seen the other night,
that even though he looked like he was born wearing these clothes, it made me curious
as to what he was really all about.  As if sensing my thoughts, he looked
up at me with a smile as he rummaged in a desk drawer.

“I run a ranch during the week;
the club is my home on the weekends. Or at least the city is; I have a condo
nearby. It saves me the long drive in the middle of the night back to the country.”

A rancher and a BDSM club
owner? Really?

“How did you end up here?” I
waved my hand around his office.

He motioned to a chair pulled up
in front of his desk. “Well, that’s a long story.”

“I have time,” I replied without
hesitation.

Nodding, he waved to the seat in
front of me. “Well then, take a seat.”

I sat; there was no way I’d pass up
learning how he came to own a BDSM club.

“My family’s had the ranch for
decades,” he began. “I was supposed to take over the estate, actually ran it
for a few years, but then things happened here…” he waved his hand absently. I
wasn’t sure if he meant Texas or the club.

“Anyway, I left it all…decided to
go to college; New York, if you believe that. It was as far as I could go in my
attempt to escape it all and get as far away as I was able. I was pretty
determined that I wasn’t going to spend my life on that ranch.” He hesitated
briefly, his eyes growing dark.