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.
“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 c*ck 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 nak*d 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 f**k 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 br**sts, 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.