FightingforControl (3 page)

“I think you can. I think you do see it in your mind right
now, and the excitement it brings you is palpable. When you go home tonight and
take out your vibrator, which of those scenes will you imagine first?”

Lori squirmed. But odds were most of the people who entered
a club like this would have to be aroused in some way by what they saw. How
could they not?

Mistress continued. “While some come here strictly for the
voyeuristic and exhibitionist aspect of their sexual needs, for most of these
people, the roles you saw them in don’t end when they walk out the door.”

She thought about letting a man take control of an entire
evening, from dinner until breakfast, trusting him to meet her needs without
her asking. And the reverse, her wanting to do what she knew would please him.
Experiencing happiness because she knew he was happy with her. Being turned-on
because he was turned-on by her.

Was it really possible? Was it possible for
her
? She
tiptoed into the deeper parts of her being and asked if she had ever met a man
whose happiness was more important than her own. And didn’t like what she
found. She looked at the wood trim on the arm of her chair and spoke softly. “I
think, maybe, I’m too selfish to please someone. I mean, sure, I like giving
blowjobs sometimes, or playing with his balls if he likes that. I’m just too
old, maybe, to not wonder what’s in it for me.”

Her words spilled out in a rush. “You know, I’m really more
focused on how it’s going to end for me. Men always come. It’s a given. They
don’t even have to take off their pants. So I focus on what feels good to me.
No one has ever complained or anything, and they always come back for more, so
I can’t be all that bad in bed. It’s these two guys at work—they’ve got me all
confused. They always flirt with me but I know they expect more in bed than I
know how to do. I doubt I’d ever hook up with them, but I don’t want to look like
an idiot if I do. I just don’t see where whips and chains have anything to do
with making love.”

She realized she’d been rambling and the warmth of a blush
climbed her neck. “Sorry. Just thinking out loud, I guess. My boss is making
noises like he is no longer considering me for a promotion. Like I can’t manage
people well. So maybe I’m not as in control of my life as I thought. Maybe I’ve
been fooling myself. That must make me sound a bit desperate, coming to a sex
club to save my job.”

Mistress Marla simply smiled in that professional way,
masking whatever she thought. “You might be telling yourself that’s why you
came, but the truth is you’re here for the same reason we all are. For the
sex.”

“My sex life is fine, if maybe a little infrequent. Okay, so
it’s nonexistent except for King Dong, but that’s beside the point and really
my business, not anyone else’s. But I don’t need to go to some club to find a
sex partner!”

Lori’s words echoed in her head. Wow, she sounded like an
old haughty priss. Emphasis on old. Miles away from the hotty she imagined
sharing her bed with Marc or Brad. She raised her eyes to look at Mistress
Marla. “I’m really a prude, aren’t I? So yeah, find me a man I’d enjoy having
sex with on a regular basis. One I wouldn’t mind spending time with outside the
bed wouldn’t be bad, either. But I have real issues with control. I doubt I can
be submissive.”

“Many people think that way, but look more closely at what
you are doing. You are choosing who you’ll give that control to. You decide what
you’ll allow him to do.” Mistress tipped her head to one side and held Lori’s
gaze with her own. “The sub has the control in her safe word, in the limits she
insists on. An experienced Dom watches his sub’s every reaction for signs she’s
entering subspace—”

“Subspace?”

“It’s a state of mind where you dissociate from the physical
pain or discomfort of the scene, often a euphoric state. While it’s pleasant
for the sub, she isn’t capable of voicing signals at that point, so she needs
to be monitored, taken care of to come down safely from the high. At
Unfettered, we’ll never allow a novice Dom to work unsupervised, so you don’t
have to be concerned about safety.”

Lori realized there was so much more to the D/s scene than
she had picked up from listening to her old roommate. How could she learn all
the terminology to do this right? Was it more work than she wanted to get
involved in, just for some good sex?

No, this wasn’t all about sex. It was about forming a
relationship that fulfilled the part of her that went unsatisfied with
missionary positions and dinner-and-movie dates. She needed to retrain herself
when it came to romance, and that took work. Finding the right man was worth
the effort. “Okay, so how does this work? Do I look at videos of potential dates
or something?”

“We have an excellent reputation for matching our clientele
using our own system. Once you’ve completed the entire registration process
we’ll set up your first session with your Dom. Your initial session will take
place here at Unfettered for your protection. And before then, I’ll take you
through some training.”

* * * * *

Brad called Marc Saturday afternoon. “Are you up for trying
out a club called Unfettered? It’s the one the 1-800 service refers people to.
I thought we could set up a scene this weekend…or we can just check it out next
week when we meet Lori there.” Brad kicked back on his leather sofa and propped
his stocking feet on the tile-topped coffee table.

“She called the number? No fucking way!”

“Yeah, our girl is as adventurous as I thought, whether she
knows it or not.”

“That doesn’t mean she followed through.”

“She must have, because I set us up to be her Doms next
Friday. We’re on, dude. I requested that she not be told who we are so she has
to confront us before she can back out.” He went on to explain what was
required before they met with her.

It still surprised him that he was able to arrange a scene
where he and Marc could work with her. They had to go to the club one night
before then, to show what sort of experience they had. Convincing the Operator
Lori would be happy with two Doms took a little work, but once Brad’s call had
been transferred to another employee, a Mistress Marla, things went more
smoothly.

In the last few years, Brad had gotten pretty good at
reading women, or so he liked to think. Some women deserved to be pampered, and
that was how he saw Lori. Maybe pampered wasn’t the word most people used
toward their submissives, but that’s how he saw it. She wasn’t only giving up
control of her body, her time, she was allowing him to discover what made her
happy.

Half of the time, the discoveries were a surprise to the
subs, too. Watching their faces light up, their eyes glaze, the tremble of a
lower lip, that’s what turned him on. Finding a nirvana she never knew existed.

He wondered what type of sounds Lori made when fully
aroused. She didn’t seem the purring type. As far as that went, she probably
never made a sound for fear of someone knowing she was enjoying herself. She
seemed repressed, but he knew there was a smoldering kitten inside.

Now he just had to put that kitten out of his mind so he
could work with her until Friday.

Chapter Three

Lori stood outside the entry of Unfettered and tugged at the
hem of her little leather skirt. Another six inches of fabric and it might make
a decent belt. Just the description of what she was supposed to wear should
have proven to her they’d chosen the wrong man to be her date.
Dom.
He
was her Dom and she was his sub. He’d requested she call him Master, and to use
the safe word “chartreuse” if she felt the need to stop the game.

Scene.
Not game. She would never get this right!
Lori’d had two sessions with Mistress Marla and thought she was ready for her
first scene with a stranger, but doubts still snuck into her thoughts. Was she
ready to explore whether this was the right option for her? Mistress had
explained that just because one man or one setting didn’t work, it didn’t mean
the whole idea was a wash.

Mistress had sounded certain that the man Lori was paired
with would please her. Lori wondered how the woman could be so sure, when Lori
wasn’t certain what she needed. How could this woman know from just a few
conversations?

How desperately she wanted to just get back in the car and
go home. But King Dong was the only one waiting there to greet her, and the
chance at something more had really awakened a longing inside her. A fulfilling
relationship was now a tangible object just out of reach. She was terrified of
stepping beyond the door, but more terrified of what life would continue to be
like if she didn’t.

One night of supervised experimentation. If she didn’t like
it, she could walk away. No one would know her name if she didn’t tell them,
and she’d be in a private room. Everyone here was discreet. This was so much
safer than meeting a stranger in a bar for a drink.

Straightening the black bustier, checking one more time that
the front zipper was fully up, she pushed open the door and entered Unfettered.

Although there were no windows to the outside and the
lighting level was much the same as when she had toured, the reception area
seemed much more mysterious this time. Moody. Maybe even dangerous. Her gaze
flitted around the room, looking for an employee. She had no clue where to go.

Mistress Marla appeared from around the corner as if she had
a camera trained on the door. Oh, duh. They had cameras all over. There was no
spot where someone could go unseen, just in case a scene got out of hand.

“Welcome, Lori. Are you looking forward to tonight?” Marla
offered her a handshake.

“Yes and no. I’m still a bit apprehensive.”

“It’s to be expected. Just remember that while you are
handing control over to another, you have the final say through your safe word.
But use it judiciously. Think of it as an emergency brake. Allow yourself to
experience the unfamiliar sensations without a preconceived notion of how your
body will react. You might be pleasantly surprised at what pleases you. And
your Dom. Shall we?”

Lori followed Mistress through the large room. Walking on
the ridiculously tall heels of her thigh-high boots was an exercise in
futility. Was there a word for something higher than a stiletto? The boots she
wore had to qualify for skyscraper heels. She probably looked like a kid
playing dress up, thoroughly unsexy.

But concentrating on not falling kept her out of her head as
far as fear was concerned. She didn’t want to credit anyone with that type of
brilliance, so she decided whoever chose her costume had a foot fetish.

And a leather fetish. Black leather. From stem to stern, with
quite a few inches of bare skin here and there. She’d gone all out with her
hair and makeup, wild and spiky and dark and sexy. Really red lipstick in a
shade she was certain clashed with her hair. And her nails! God, she never wore
fuck-me red polish but she had tonight. She hoped her Dom appreciated it.

Mistress led her to a small room, and Lori was relieved to
see there were no windows. A chair in a darkened corner for Mistress to sit,
but otherwise she’d have complete privacy.

Lori looked at the other furniture in the room, or what she
guessed would pass for furniture. A wooden chair with a shallow seat and two
extensions, looking remarkably like a doctor’s exam table, yet the “patient”
would sit rather than recline. A tall bench with a padded crosspiece. And in
the center of the small space, a pair of manacles anchored to the floor, with a
matching pair hanging from the ceiling by thick chains.

Mistress Marla led her to those cuffs and buckled her in.
Lori adjusted her stance for comfort and stood spread-eagle, listening to
Mistress retreat to her corner. Her skin grew damp with anticipation. While a
single word could end the scene before it even began, she owed it to herself to
see it through.

The silence grew and Lori waited. Cool air battled the nervous
heat her body gave off. Butterflies danced wild hip-hop moves in her stomach.
She strained to hear sounds. Her gaze darted about the room, or the portion she
could see from her position. Where was he, this Dom of hers?

As if on cue, the door opened and Lori’s pulse jumped. She
held her breath. In walked a golden god in black leather pants, black cuffs and
a mask. His hair was covered by a dark silk scarf tied pirate style at the back
of his head. He had a small gold hoop in one ear.

His full lips spread in a smile and his tongue traced across
his lower lip as if he stood before a banquet. He stopped a few feet from her
and ran his gaze from her toes up. Lori smiled, not having expected such a
handsome man. He looked awfully young, though.

Then Lori realized the door hadn’t shut behind him. Another
man walked in dressed similarly but wearing an open black vest. His skin was
more olive and his muscles were no less impressive. Tight, hard and defined,
from the six-pack to his biceps and sculpted thighs.

Damn, she just knew they’d be turned-off when they realized
her breasts sagged and her hips were fat.

Wait. Two men, two Doms? “There’s been a mistake, I think,
Mistress—”

“You were not given permission to speak,” the golden one
barked.

Her mouth snapped shut. Should she apologize or would that
get her in trouble? But, what the fuck, why were there two men here when she
hadn’t asked for that? Her gaze danced back and forth, landing on one, then the
other. Which was she supposed to answer to?

The dark, gypsy-looking one came forward. “We’re both your
masters now. You will treat a command from either of us equally. You will ask
for permission to speak, permission to touch us, permission to come. If you do
any of these things without permission, you will be punished. Do you
understand?”