“Ms. Alison,” the doorman says outside my building. He always greets me if he notices me, but today he’s approaching me, making sure he has my attention. “A letter was left at the desk to be delivered personally to you.” He hands me an envelope marked only as, “I.”
Uh huh.
“Thank you.” I flash the doorman a smile before hopping into the elevator and heading up to my floor. There’s a text from Anita on my phone, saying she tidied up my place and took care of the cat. Turns out Anita loves cat and has two of her own. When I randomly brought Sinéad home a few weeks ago, I never thought I’d see my assistant come back down from the cosmos. My housecleaner doesn’t even have to clean up after the cat. My assistant is more than happy to do it. The weirdo.
I wait to read the letter until I’m tucked away in my apartment, curled up on my sofa with a blanket around me and tea cooling on the coffee table. Anything Ian had personally delivered to me like this must be given careful attention.
Fuck the tea. I instantly wish I had grabbed alcohol the moment I see what’s inside the letter.
Chapter 5
KATHRYN
Sometimes I’m amazed at the amount of free time Ian has. After all, he had enough time to hand write this contract stipulating what’s going to happen for three days next week.
Three days of me submitting to him full fucking time.
Did I know that I would be expected to answer his every command? To cook for him if that’s what he wants? To be his maid, his sex slave? Oh, and the best part... I’m supposed to at least pretend I get off on it.
Soft-spoken. Dressed in whatever he wants me to wear. Somehow still doing my work at the hotel while serving his every whim as well.
And at night, I’m sure I’m supposed to do whatever he wants in bed and then wash his dick for him in the shower.
Fucking men, I swear to God.
Eva’s got the right idea. I need to become gay.
Ian was kind enough to include a list of things that I will not have to worry about during our trial. No electrocution, no hot wax, not suffocation, no latex, no other partners or public sex… oh well thank goodness for that!
However, I also have a lovely list of things that I can look forward to possibly happening. The moment I put on my collar, I’ll give him permission to do whatever the hell else he wants to me. Sure, I can say my safe words and they’ll stop, but it’s the principle of the thing. The man will basically own my body, my actions for three days.
I don’t just need a drink. I need an escape.
Three hours later I find myself at The Dark Hour on a Sunday night. You never know how it’s going to be on Sunday. It’s one of the few days people like us have off to spend time indulging in kinks, but it’s also the night before a long work week. So, it fills up, but people tend to leave early. Hence me being here shortly after dinner, having a strong drink and taking in the sights.
This time I don’t take a private booth. I am secluded in a corner, however, just far enough from others that they don’t really bother me, but close enough to see the action. It’s mostly established couples here, although a few stragglers make the rounds, trying to strike up a threesome here or there. Hey, when a sub’s horny, he or she will do what it takes to get relief.
A couple of guys make eyes at me. I stare them down, threateningly, encouraging them to go find love for the night elsewhere. I’m not here to pick up a sub. Besides, Ian and I are to a point where I expect him to be exclusive to me, and it’s only right I honor that in turn. That includes touching a male sub – or not, in my case.
Even though a lot of them are ripped to hell and back, their chains enticing, their abs begging for my lips, my hands, my pussy grinding against them. One guy has a face perfect for sitting on.
Can’t think about that.
I’m here to soak up the fun of other Doms, Dommes, their toys and their pets. I need as close to a thrill as I can get before I go ahead and try this lifestyle thing with Ian. Not only that, but I need to better understand it before submitting my mind to that sort of headspace.
I came to this club when I first considered submitting to him. Watching the Andrews switch was a unique experience in that it helped me understand their lifestyle a bit more. Except that was sex. The Andrews don’t lifestyle. The only people I personally know who do that are Eva’s family, but I’m not close enough to them to sit down and have a one-on-one girl talk with Monica about serving.
Thirty minutes pass before I find someone suitable enough. A young woman wandering around, doe-eyed in her faux innocence, but aware enough to know what she’s looking for. She swaps smiles with many of the men in suits. At one point she approaches a man I don’t recognize, getting on her knees and placing a hand on his arm. Since she’s barely wearing lingerie, let alone any clothing at all, the man is able to look right at her hardened nipples and thong bunching around her ass. He turns her away only because he’s already spoken for, his full-time sub currently in the restroom.
The girl with curly brown hair almost doesn’t see me flag her down as she walks by.
“Excuse me, ma’am,” she says with a demure voice. She doesn’t drop to her knees for me, although her head is bowed and her hands clasped before her. “I’m afraid I’m not looking for a woman tonight.”
“Don’t worry. You’re not my type either.” I gesture to the empty chair in front of me. “I’d like to talk to you for a few minutes, though. I’ll buy you a drink for your time and trouble. What have you? Cosmo?”
If she were having any luck tonight, I’m sure she would politely turn me down and go find a cock to suck. Yet it’s a slow night at The Dark Hour. She’s not going to turn down a free drink for twenty minutes.
“What’s your name?” A server brings a drink for the girl.
“I go by Nova, ma’am.”
Everyone has a code name in this damned place. “All right, Nova, mind if I ask you a few questions about… what you do?”
She raises a sculpted eyebrow. “Ma’am?”
“Not your job. No, not like that.” Most of the young female subs in here don’t have careers, unless they’re aspiring actresses or singers. Most of them are looking for some sugar on the side as they go through college or struggle through God knows how many shitty part-time jobs. I don’t envy them. I never have. “I meant being a sub.”
Nova isn’t responding. I think she may be on the verge of getting up and leaving me with an untouched drink.
“Go on, ma’am.”
Well, then.
“How long have you been doing this?”
She pokes a finger beneath her chin and looks the other way, adding up time in her head. She’s a cute little sub, I’ll give her that. Petite. Perky. Big, round lips most men would go crazy for. I’m sure Ian would get a kick out of her for a night.
“About two years, ma’am.”
“Why do you like it?”
I can tell she’s confused, but thus far she’s not asking any questions. “I don’t know…”
“Do you lifestyle?”
She shrugs. Her sheer, pink lingerie shuffles along her breasts and stomach, but does not accidentally show me her goods. I can see those nipples really well, though. “Depends on the Dom, ma’am. Some of them are fun for a night, but after that it’s only for the sex. Others make me want to serve them all day. I don’t have a preference. Every relationship is different.”
I nod. Good. That’s what I wanted to hear. “So you would confidently say that you enjoy being a sub, possibly in a lifestyle sense?”
“Sure.”
She doesn’t know where I’m going with this. I barely know where I’m going with this. There are things I want to know, for sure, but it’s not exactly kosher for strangers to ask each other these things. If I’m not delicate, Nova might bail on me. I wouldn’t blame her.