Club Desire: My Obsession Part 11

She mumbled something she hoped was semi-intelligible.

"Now that we're somewhere dark, let's get this blindfold off you. Too much sensory input while in deep subs.p.a.ce isn't good, so I left it on until we were out of the bright lights."

The cloth loosened and then Master Brent pulled it off. She blinked, looking around at the dark room but not making out anything except large lumps she was sure were other couches.

Master Brent tucked her more firmly against him and brushed the hair away from her face.

"I know you're still flying, but I want to make sure you're all right. Take stock of your body and let me know if you're having any discomfort."

With effort she got her brain to cooperate, and she focused on her body. For the most part she felt amazing. Boneless and wonderfully spent. The only discomfort she sensed at all was from her abdominal muscles. Several very hard o.r.g.a.s.ms and her bucking her hips as she begged for more had given her probably the most comprehensive ab workout of her life.

She rubbed her wrists expecting to feel pain or even raw spots like she had every other time she'd been restrained, but while there were a few spots of soreness where she'd thrashed against her bonds, she was sure there wouldn't be any marks from this tomorrow.

Part of her grieved for that. She would have treasured them. Soft marks that would take several days to fade and would also remind her of this magical night with Master Brent.

She swallowed hard to make sure she could speak. "I'm all right, sir."

He tapped her softly on the tip of her nose. "Sandra. It took you quite a while to take stock, so what have you left out? I decide what's important or not in this realm, remember?"

She nodded. "Yes, sir. My abs are going to kill me later. I was expecting my wrists to be sore like they have in the past, but they're fine."

"Any discomfort from the a.n.a.l play?"

She thought about it for a moment and then shook her head. "No, sir. Just a sort of wonderfully well-used feeling. Once I recover, I think I'd like to try some more."

He chuckled. "Fair enough. I think I've created a monster. We'll discuss that as soon as you come down from subs.p.a.ce."

Before she could feel any disappointment that he wouldn't discuss it with her now, her thoughts drifted off again, back into the strange euphoria that had so completely captured her mind and body.

She wasn't sure how long she floated before she became aware of the world around her again. As her body slowly settled back to planet Earth she cuddled against Master Brent, enjoying his gentle touches and his softly spoken words. When she finally felt more normal, she slowly sat up and smiled until her face ached. Now that she wasn't flying and her eyes had adjusted, she could make out the couches and furniture even in the soft light coming from around the closed door.

A few other couples sat on couches similar to this one, which surprised her since she hadn't heard them come in. But then she hadn't noticed being gathered up at the end of that intense scene either.

Or...they might have been here when Master Brent brought her in. She didn't think she would have noticed an entire crowd of people at that point.

Subs.p.a.ce indeed.

Master Brent studied her critically, his handsome face shadowed and striking in the darkened room. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Yes, Master Brent. Thank you. For everything."

"My pleasure, Sandra. Absolutely, my pleasure."

She shook herself as she realized Master Brent had never come during their play. Or at least that she knew about. After all, she didn't even remember the end of their scene.

"Sir?"

He tipped his head to the side, considering her. "What is it, Sandra?" Concern laced his deep voice.

"I would like you to have some pleasure too. You gave me the most amazing night of my life, and I don't want to leave you frustrated. Can I take care of you?"

He smiled, a soft expression stealing over his face. "Tonight was about you. Your first scene here at Club Desire, and your first experience with subs.p.a.ce if I'm not mistaken."

She pursed her lips and tried again. "You asked me if I was all right with intercourse during or at the end of scenes...and-"

"Yes, I did. And that will definitely come in time. But you've had enough intense sensations for one evening. I think it's time for a shower and a good night's sleep. Do you want to go up to the guest room, or would you like me to take you back to Mich.e.l.le's?"

Disappointment washed through her that he hadn't offered to let her stay with him, or at the very least offered to stay with her in the guest room upstairs. But she had to admit that she would probably fall asleep on him in the first five minutes anyway. She shook her head. "I'm exhausted, but I think I should probably go back to Mich.e.l.le's."

She couldn't make out Master Brent's expression in the murky light, but she hoped he was at least a little disappointed. Tomorrow was Sunday and she didn't think too much was going on around here, but she didn't know for sure. She shrugged.

"Oh, I nearly forgot to mention this." He skimmed his knuckles across her cheek, leaving a trail of warmth that seemed to burrow deep inside her chest. "If you don't have plans for Monday morning, I know someone who is looking for an office manager. I can come by and give you a ride if you're interested."

Her breath caught. She definitely wasn't used to being taken care of, and she was afraid it was a very dangerous thing to get too comfortable with. She would come to rely on it and then it would break her heart when it stopped. She mentally shook herself and focused on answering. "Thank you, Master Brent. I would appreciate that. What time should I be ready?"

He took her hand in his and squeezed lightly. "I'll pick you up at eight o'clock."

She leaned over and brushed a kiss against his cheek. "Thank you, Brent," she said, purposely leaving off the honorific. This action was outside their D/s relationship and she wanted him to know she appreciated it in that light.

He squeezed her shoulder and placed a kiss on top of her head, a gesture that squeezed her heart and made her fight a silly grin that tried to curve her lips.

"Let's go upstairs, get your things, and I'll drive you home."

- Brent stumbled through the front door of his suite and closed and locked the door behind him. His body still burned with pent-up need from the intense scene with Sandra.

He toed off his shoes and stripped off his clothes, tossing them away to land wherever they would. When he was naked, he headed to the shower to cool his raging l.u.s.t.

He reminded himself again forcefully that he needed to go slow with her no matter how much he wanted to plunge inside her willing body until they were both gasping and spent. Instead, he had done his duty by her and given her the night of euphoria she both wanted and needed. He needed to help heal the wounds of the past, both the ones he knew about and those he could only guess at. One day he would remove those shadows of fear that slipped into her gray gaze now and then.

If he ever met her first Dom, Scott, he would have some words for the man about not fully training Sandra and showing her the power a sub wielded in the D/s relationship. If he'd done that properly, she would have built up enough self-esteem and confidence that she might not have been easy prey for Diego.

White-hot anger flashed through him as he thought about Diego.

The b.a.s.t.a.r.d had better hope if they did meet that Brent was sane enough in that moment to only hand him over to law enforcement.

It was criminal to use the position of a Dom to inflict abuse of any type, and it sent renewed fury burning through Brent's gut as he briefly pictured using Diego the way he had used his Wing Chun wooden practice dummy down in his dojo. A quick glance into the bathroom mirror showed him wearing a predatory and slightly evil-looking smile.

As much as he would like to teach Diego a lesson, he didn't want to kill him...Well, he actually did, so it wouldn't be a good idea to be given that chance since he wasn't so sure he wouldn't take it.

He stepped under the cold spray of the shower, wincing against the sudden temperature change but welcoming the distraction from his thoughts.

Coming in from the Arizona summer night, his body had adjusted to a temperature in the low 90s, so the cold water was a shock to his system.

However, even with that, his c.o.c.k remained hard and ready for Sandra. He really shouldn't be surprised. He had fantasized about having her laid before him like a banquet since he'd first seen her his freshman year in high school. So to finally have her there had been heady...as well as making him feel both honored and frustrated as h.e.l.l.

He hadn't quite known in high school that he was a Dom, or that his fantasies clearly reflected that. But looking back, it would have been all too clear if he'd known what to look for at the time. Luckily in college, Mason had recognized him as another Dom and introduced him to the lifestyle. That one interaction had changed his life forever, and he would always be grateful even though he and Mason didn't always agree on how to run their clubs.

Mason had been contrite enough on the phone when they'd spoken, so Brent was able to get the full story on Sandra. Mason didn't see any need to have his clientele or his club stay at a certain level, whereas Brent always wanted to maintain the highest standards in both. While Club Desire was definitely a kink and fetish BDSM dungeon at its core, those who chose to practice their preferences here did so in a cla.s.sy, clean, and safe environment. That didn't mean there weren't some risks inherent in any type of fetish and s.e.x play, but safe, sane, and consensual were the rules here, not the exception. While that wasn't always the case at other dungeons, Brent refused to accept anything less.

He shook his head and brought his thoughts back to the here and now as the cold water continued to spray against his skin, making him shiver but not relieving the burn of his l.u.s.t.

He suspected only plunging inside Sandra's tight and willing body would do that, but then again, he could envision pleasuring Sandra, and by extension, himself, for an entire lifetime and never getting enough of her, so maybe this was to be a permanent state for him?

That was a thought for further reflection. He needed to separate the Sandra he'd fantasized about in high school from the woman she had become.

Right now she needed to be guided in her own pleasure, and he was happy to take on that role. He knew she wanted him to take her...something he desperately wanted as well. But he had to make sure the timing and situation were right for Sandra, too, and not only for his own raging libido.

He leaned one hand against the tile wall and forced himself to stay under the stinging spray of water. When his body had grown accustomed to the temperature and he no longer even noticed the cold, he grabbed the soap and lathered it in his hand before palming his c.o.c.k.

Sensations raced along his length, down into his b.a.l.l.s and then deep inside his pelvis to radiate out to the rest of his body.

He pictured Sandra lying on the bondage bed earlier tonight, her wrists bound and her arms stretched over her head so her lovely b.r.e.a.s.t.s were bare and on display. She had wonderful b.r.e.a.s.t.s, full enough to overflow his hands, with thick pink nipples that hardened easily.

Sharp excitement had surged when he'd found out her nipples were extremely sensitive. He would bet that with enough stimulation, she could come just from that. His first thought was that he would have to buy her some nipple clamps. He had some regular clamps, but those didn't have adjustable pressure, and he wanted to ease her into the sensations to make sure they stayed pleasurable and not painful. As sensitive as her nipples were, he would have to pay close attention to her body language to make sure she was enjoying it and not only trying to please him.

Some women got off on pain, but from what he'd seen of Sandra, and from hearing even part of her experiences with Diego, she didn't seem the type. She might eventually enjoy stinging sensations like light spanking or flogging, but with her nipples as sensitive as they were, pain wouldn't be pleasurable for her.

He would find her the perfect pair of nipple huggers with dangling chains or jewelry tomorrow, so he could make a gift of them on Monday.

A vivid image of her lovely pink nipples hard and captured inside jeweled nipple huggers made his c.o.c.k twitch in his hand. She would look amazing bent over a spanking horse, the chain from the jewelry draping down toward the floor. In his vision she was trussed up in a tantalizing picture with her a.s.s displayed for him to tease and f.u.c.k.

He would eventually f.u.c.k that beautiful a.s.s. She had been much too responsive to a.n.a.l play to forgo that possibility. He wanted Sandra in every way imaginable. However, he would go slow for her sake as well as his. He was a bit too large for it to be comfortable for her yet. He could introduce her to some plugs and toys to get her used to relaxing and being open enough for him to get to the point where it would be pleasurable for both of them.

He stroked his c.o.c.k, picturing Sandra's glistening p.u.s.s.y as it had been tonight, open and wet for all to see. He sucked in a breath as he imagined pushing inside her and hearing her moan as she tightened around him.

He increased both his pressure around his c.o.c.k and his pace, using his other hand to cup his b.a.l.l.s, which only added to the vision of him pounding inside her willing body.

The slick friction of his fingers over his hard length increased like a fast-rising wave, making him gasp for breath as the wave continued to rise higher.

He adjusted his stance so he could thrust his hips, which only took him back to the vision of f.u.c.king Sandra as she was bent and tied over the spanking horse. She wasn't ready for it, but he hoped eventually she would warm to the idea of being spanked and pleasured in that way. The sensations from impact play could enhance other play, and he hoped to eventually introduce her to those. But only if she was ready.

Yet here in the shower he could let his imagination run wild. He could picture flogging or spanking her until wonderful red stripes marked her beautiful pale skin. Then when she was screaming with arousal and drowning under an endorphin high he would f.u.c.k her hard, pounding inside her until she tightened around him and screamed for him to come.

He hadn't realized how real his vision had been until his b.a.l.l.s tightened against his body and he felt the impending explosion screaming for release.

His o.r.g.a.s.m hit him like a fist to the gut, and he shouted as he leaned his forehead against the cold tile and continued to pump into his fist until every last drop of c.u.m had been spent.

It took him a few minutes before his heart had returned to a normal speed and his breathing had calmed.

d.a.m.n, he couldn't wait to see her again.

Tomorrow was Sunday, and he had things to take care of around Club Desire. He needed to give her some s.p.a.ce anyway. As far as he could tell, things had been a whirlwind since she'd gotten back into town, and she needed some downtime to rest and reflect. He would see her Monday morning, and he would have to be happy with that. He could use the time to plan their next scene.

The surge of arousal told him he needed to steer clear of any s.e.xual thoughts about Sandra for the next day, or he would never get anything productive accomplished.

Although that might not be such a bad trade-off to make.

He laughed at himself and shook his head. How was it that all these years later she could still shred his control and send him back to that timid high-school boy pining after the hot, popular girl?

- Diego took a deep breath as he pulled into the motel parking lot. He'd spent the last few days driving to this G.o.dforsaken h.e.l.lhole called Phoenix. Without the humidity of New York, the heat here seared into any exposed skin, making him feel like he was being flayed alive.

d.a.m.n Sandra for making him come here. The b.i.t.c.h would definitely pay for this.

It had taken him several hundred dollars to bribe someone to give him a page of Sandra's cell bill so he could see where she had been calling. It had been too much to hope for that the address listed on the bill would show him exactly where to find her. Instead, it still showed her address from New York, and he'd been unable to get her old roommate, Darla, to talk. With all the scrutiny from both the local Doms and law enforcement there, he hadn't wanted to risk forcing Darla to tell him, although it would have been enjoyable time spent after her a.s.shole boyfriend, Mason, had banned him from his dungeon.

He didn't usually enjoy torturing men, but for Mason, he might make an exception. That man had gotten in his way for the last time.

Seeing Sandra's list of calls hadn't improved his mood, but it had shown him clearly where she'd gone. Her recent calls were mostly to Phoenix, with a few still to New York. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out she'd run home to Phoenix. He had looked up all the numbers on the bill, and when he'd found two calls to Club Desire, he'd been livid. A quick Google search had shown him it was a very elite dungeon, which meant Sandra was allowing some other Dom to f.u.c.k her.

That was unacceptable, and she would be severely punished. His mouth watered at the prospect. It usually took him nearly a year to finish playing with his victims before he was ready to kill them. The chase only made the final moments and the fear in their eyes all the sweeter. But in Sandra's case, she had pushed him beyond his limits. Since Sandra had stayed one step ahead of him since she ran, he didn't have the luxury of giving her the kind of send-off that would satisfy his cravings for revenge.

He couldn't risk getting caught, and Sandra's whining to the other Doms had brought him too much undue notice already.

He would find her. He would punish her, and then he would kill her. Slowly enough so she would suffer and feel fear, but then she would die so he could find the next.

The simple thought of the next woman in a long line cheered him and gave him renewed determination.

He pushed open the car door and headed to the small motel office to rent a room for the night. After some rest he could finish studying Sandra's cell bill and then start looking for her. He considered going back to New York when all this was over, but then another thought came to him. The authorities were watching him closely in New York, and he was sure Mason and the other Doms had gotten him blacklisted at all of the local dungeons, but neither of those was the case here in Phoenix.

As much as he hated this place, it also represented an untapped well of new women for him to choose from. It would bear checking out, and worst-case scenario, if he didn't find a good dungeon in need of Doms here, he could go to San Diego. Better weather, and the large kink and fetish population were more open about it than here in very conservative Arizona. Or at least they all tried to appear conservative.

He smiled to himself. New prospects were opening up, so maybe this trip would yield extra rewards beyond seeing Sandra receive her rightful punishment.

Chapter 13.

Sandra huffed out a breath and swung her legs over the side of the bed as she sat up. She'd tried to sleep last night, but after a full day of thinking about Master Brent without even a text message, her frustration had kept her wide awake and endlessly replaying their scene from Sat.u.r.day night over and over inside her head. Which definitely hadn't helped her sleep.

And now he was picking her up in a few hours for a job interview, and she most likely looked like h.e.l.l. Time to see what a brisk shower, some hot coffee, and some damage-control makeup could do.

An hour later she was downstairs, excitement coursing through her veins at the possibilities the day before her might hold.

When the knock sounded against the door frame, she jumped and let out an embarra.s.sing squeak. She couldn't remember being this excited to have someone pick her up before. She wondered if this would have been what it felt like to be picked up by a prom date back in high school. Because of her home issues she had never accepted any high school dates, and she'd always felt she had missed out by not attending her proms.

She opened the door and drank in the pure male beauty that was Master Brent. He wore black dress slacks and a hunter-green b.u.t.ton-down shirt that looked made for him from the way it lovingly caressed his sculpted torso and muscular arms. He was clean-shaven, and it took great effort not to reach up and run her fingers over his smooth, sculpted jaw. But she didn't need to be distracted this early in the day. She had important matters to take care of.

"Good morning, Sandra." His voice was gravelly and deep, that s.e.xy male morning voice that sent shivers over her skin.

"Good morning." She held her arms out to her sides. "Will this outfit do?" Her silky A-line skirt fell sensuously around her calves, and she'd chosen a matching top with a tasteful V-neck and a three-quarter-length sleeve, since the heat was already strong, even this early in the morning. Mich.e.l.le had insisted that business dress in Arizona definitely took the hotter climate into account, but there was still a part of her that worried she was underdressed.

"You look amazing." His thorough gaze raked over her from head to toe, and she sucked in a small breath at the almost physical sensation that look left in its wake. "I forgot to remind you that what pa.s.ses for business dress in New York is very different from here. But it looks like you've adapted seamlessly."