Stripped (2 page)

“There are always reasons why
kids grow up and leave home; I guess I had more than my share.” He was looking
past me, caught up in his memories. Then his eyes met mine and the darkness
faded a bit.

Chase rubbed the side of his
nose, a sheepish grin on his face. “I almost flunked out of college my first
semester. I spent all of my time partying and meeting as many pretty girls as I
could. I was just a hot-blooded country boy caught up in the high energy of the
city lights.  I couldn’t get enough of the club scene. It got pretty crazy
there for awhile.”

His voice dropped, and his face
grew serious. “During my senior year, my parents were killed in a car accident.
Both of them. I’m an only child and so I inherited everything. I forced myself
to finish up school, managed to graduate and then came back here. I thought I’d
be a rancher for life, but then this club came up for sale a few years ago and
well, as they say, the rest is history.”

Chase sat back, his expression
less guarded. “I breed horses during the week and run this place Friday through
Sunday.” He smiled. “You’d be amazed at the similarities.”

He leaned forward. “Now it’s your
turn. How did you become a submissive?” He looked genuinely interested but the
blunt question caught me off guard and I found my throat grow dry as I
frantically struggled to maintain composure. Holding nothing back, I found
myself recounting my bumbling adventure on the BDSM site, after reading the
50
Shades
books.

Chase laughed, a deep sound that
I quite liked. “If you only knew how business increased after those books were
published. I almost think sometimes I should send a thank you note to the
author.”

He shrugged, still smiling. “She
really didn’t do that a great job of giving an accurate picture of a dominant
submissive relationship, but she sure as hell got everyone interested in being
tied up with silk neckties and getting spanked. We had…still have actually…a
few couples come in who want to give the whole scene a try. Some leave before they
get past the lounge, some stay and watch a few play scenes and decide this
isn’t really for them. But we do have a few couples who’ve become regulars.”

Chase came around to sit on edge
of his desk. I was conscious of his body, his legs, how muscular they were,
just inches from mine, the denim stretched tight across his groin. I tried so
hard to focus on his face, meet his gaze, but my eyes were drawn down to the
open neck of his shirt, a few light hairs visible. And then lower, remembering
what lay between his thighs, the feeling of his cock inside me washing over me.
I willed myself to look at his eyes. And I saw him smiling at me, the knowing
look in his eyes telling me he knew exactly what I was thinking.

He looked at me appraisingly for
a long moment. I shifted a bit under his gaze. Even though I’d been naked and
spread for him, bound with ropes and forced to accept every inch of him, I still
felt embarrassed to be analyzed in such close scrutiny.

“I didn’t realize you were that
new to the scene. I know about Jake, that he’s had some experience as a Dom,
but you seem to have taken to this quite well for someone so new to the role. You’re
a very willing student. I like that.”

He rose, my necklace dangling
between his fingers. I held out my hand. But he moved behind me.

“Here, let me.” He gently moved
my hair aside and slipping the necklace over my head. I heard the snap of the
little cufflink clasp, the heavy weight of the silver against my skin. Jake’s
face flashed briefly through my mind. I pushed that image forcefully aside.

Chase rested his hands lightly on
my shoulders, his thumbs brushing against the bare skin of my neck. I closed my
eyes, taking a deep breath.

His fingers were warm against my
skin, his touch sure and strong. I shivered involuntarily, heard his laugh.

“I meant what I said, Abby. We’ll
be good together. Trust me.” His voice was mesmerizing, his breathe warm
against my neck.

“We could start here, right now,
in the club. I can show you things that you’ll love.”

His hands moved up to my neck,
his fingers traveling beneath my chin, over my lips. I opened my mouth and he
slid one finger inside, and I sucked on it briefly before he removed it,
tracing a damp line down my neck, over the top of one full breast.

“Visit the ranch; get out of the
city for a day. You’d like it there. I have horses; all girls love horses.” He
laughed, his breath teasing the hair near my ear. I felt the brush of his lips
on my neck, firm and insistent. I tilted my head, my hair falling to the side,
giving him more of me, inviting him further.

His teeth brushed against the
soft skin at the nape of my neck, slowly nibbling down toward my shoulder,
pulling my shirt aside, lips and tongue and teeth teasing me, lighting a fire
inside.

“Take me up on my offer.” Again,
not a question; a statement, a foregone conclusion.

I closed my eyes. I did want to
take him up on his offer, more than anything. I wanted him to dominate me, take
me to that place he had the other night. I wanted him to fuck me, hard.

“Yes.”

He kissed the top of my head.
“Come with me.”

***

Chase led me down a different
hall than he had the other night. These rooms had doors and these doors had
locks. Chase used a key on one and let me into a small room, flicking on the
lights, which actually did very little to illuminate the space.
Now I know
why they’re called dungeons.

I turned to look at Chase,
watching as he moved around the room. It was immaculate, everything neatly
arranged. I realized with a start I was looking at a wide variety of whips and
paddles and other instruments designed to inflict pain.

“What are these rooms?”

“These can be booked by the
club’s elite clients for an entire evening. They’re extremely private; there’s
even a private entrance to this wing, from a separate door on the other side of
the building.”

Chase stood in front of me,
looking at me critically, as if deciding between paint colors. “I’d like to
spank you, maybe try a whip or a flogger. Are you interested in that?”

I felt my face flush and I must
have made a face at the word ‘spank’. Chase cocked his head, a curious look on
his face. Then he broke in to a big grin.

“I’d have thought you’d like
spanking. Have you experienced any spanking, anything with pain?”

I shrugged. “Only as discipline.
Spanking was the discipline for disobeying…” My voice trailed off. I couldn’t
bring myself to say Jake’s name here. It seemed wrong somehow.

“Spanking is more, far more than
just discipline.” He moved toward me, closer, his hands caressing my shoulders,
his eyes locked with mine.

“Done correctly and for the right
reasons, it can be quite pleasurable. And with me, it would be for all the
right reasons.” His voice was low, honey smooth.

“Let me show you.” 

Chase’s fingers moved slowly over
my body, unbuttoning each button on my shirt, pulling the fabric aside. His
eyes moved over my breasts, his hands following, cupping them, his fingers hot
against my skin.

He ran his hands over my stomach,
undoing the button and zipper of my pants, letting them fall to the floor at my
feet. I stepped away from them, kicking them unceremoniously to the side.

A tiny voice in my head said I
was lucky I’d decided to wear such nice matching lingerie. A second traitorous
voice said it wasn’t as much luck as careful planning that had paid off. I
tried to ignore both voices. But I couldn’t ignore the rapid beating of my
heart nor the shiver that ran through my body at the touch of Chase’s fingers.

Chase left me for a moment,
pulling a straight-back chair into the center of the room, sitting down and
facing me.

“Come here.” His voice was low,
that same meditative tone I remembered hearing as he had tied me up.

I stood in front of him, looking
down into his eyes. No one had said anything about calling him Master or being
under submission and I found myself reaching out, running my fingers through
his auburn hair. My breath caught in my throat at the feel of his thick hair
running through my fingers.

Chase ran his hands up my legs,
slowly, up over my hips, watching his fingers as he traced the faint rope lines
that were still visible on my skin. He seemed entranced by the subtle evidence
of his handiwork.

When he spoke, his voice was
dreamy, his eyes faraway. “Do you know how erotic it was to tie you up, Abby?
How hot it made me? The rope, when it’s pulled just so against your flesh, hugs
your skin, biting in so delicately. It’s as if the rope becomes one with your
body.”

His fingers were circling my
thighs, higher and higher, following the faint red lines. “You’re a perfect
size for rope play.” His eyes met mine. “I like my women to be real, to have
some curves. I like for the rope to have something to hug. I enjoyed the
feeling of your soft skin beneath my fingers, beneath the rope as I wrapped it
around you. Watching it bite ever so slightly into your skin when you pulled
against it…it gives and moves, almost as if it’s alive.”

He leaned forward, kissing my
stomach, running his tongue briefly around my navel, moving down to kiss the
rope marks. I could feel his hands on my ass, gently and rhythmically squeezing
my cheeks. After a moment, he looked up at me. His eyes had lost the dreamy
look; they were blazing now with unbridled lust.

I felt his fingers slide beneath
the elastic of my panties, pulling them down my legs. I stepped out of them.

“Come here; let me show you how
it’s done.”

Chase laid me down across his
lap, adjusting me until my ass was where he wanted it. I was very conscious of
his erection, brushing against my hip. It seemed impossibly large; I thought I
remembered what he looked like; standing between my bound legs, but much of
that night was still a fuzzy blur of images and sensations.

There was a long pause and then
Chase began slowly, softly rubbing the bare skin on my ass. His hands were a
strange combination of soft and rough. A thought about callouses from breaking
horses never fully formed; it was interrupted by the sharp pain of Chase
slapping my ass.

I cried out, loudly, in shock and
pain. Chase’s hand was back, rubbing the spot he’d just struck.

“It’s better if you’re not
expecting it. Relax. Being tense makes it hurt.”

I wasn’t sure how it could hurt
worse. My mind went back to Jake’s spanking, the shame I’d felt, and the hot
tears that ran down my face. I didn’t want to feel that here; I wanted to
experience whatever this was going to be, from Chase, with an open mind.

There was another sharp slap,
this time on the other cheek. The pain was just as intense, but at least my
mind was prepared.

Chase’s hand was softly caressing
me again. And then another slap. And other.

The heat of arousal I’d felt
earlier, as he’d undressed me and kissed me, during his lovingly detailed
explanation of the ropes on my body, suddenly blossomed into a full-on fire. My
skin was burning, but the slaps lost their individual sting, melding into a
heat that sank directly into my loins. There was something wild and
uncontrollable about this feeling; it went straight to my core, unlocking
something deep and primal, something I’d never felt before.

I tried to relax my muscles, not
tense my legs, but my body was clenched in the middle, my hips flexing forward,
my back bowed. Each slap made me contract more, drove the breath out of me in a
whistling grunt. I realized after a time I was hearing an echo; Chase was
making the same noise in concert with me, his hips rising with each slap, his
erection pressing hard against my hip. I could feel the heat of his body
through his jeans, his thighs tensing beneath me with each slap, with each
movement I made in response.

Each slap sent waves of heat
spiraling through my body, each caress between slaps teasing me, making me hot
and wet. I was consumed by a continuous wash of heat, fueled by Chase’s hands
on my ass, either the sting of a flesh on flesh or the soft touch between them.

But the soft touches stopped, the
slaps continuing, arriving faster, one after another. Chase was breathing as
hard as I was now, whistling breaths between his teeth in the pauses between
hitting me. Then everything stopped for a brief instant. I hung my head,
gulping air.

But suddenly I was moving as he
picked me up, less of a push off his lap than a controlled drop to the floor. I
was surprised by his strength and at unexpectedly finding myself on my hands
and knees on the rug. I looked behind me, just as Chase was stripping his jeans
down his muscular thighs.

His cock seemed enormous from
this angle, long and thick and hard, but I didn’t have time to register much
else before he dropped to his knees behind me, his hands on my burning ass, his
cock driving home into my pussy.

I came instantly, hard, with a
tearing scream and a shudder that bordered on a convulsion. There was no
subspace this time. I was acutely aware of every sensation in my body; Chase’s
hands on my stinging ass, his cock thrusting hard into me, the pulsing waves of
my orgasm as they crashed through my body.

Chase’s orgasm followed on the
heels of mine, as he thrust himself deeply into me with a series of loud cries
and grunts, primal and masculine. I wanted to turn around, to watch his face,
see this progression but he pressed down on the small of my back, forcing me
down onto the rug, my arms giving way.

As he pulled away, he gave me
another sharp crack across the ass, my burning flesh receiving this one with
less grace than the rest. I pushed myself up, spun around, arm raised, breath
tearing from my throat. I’m not quite sure what I intended to do, but Chase
easily caught my wrist, pulling me hard against his chest.