Sexed Into Submission (3 page)

Restless and unable to fall back asleep, I
dress for the gym and shoot Dean a text, telling him to meet me in twenty minutes. If I have to lift weights all day and tear my muscles to keep Piper from consuming my mind, dammit, that’s what I’ll do. I don’t lose control. I crave no one, and I refuse to let Piper be the exception.

Three

Piper

My alarm
sounds too early for my liking. Thanks to that delicious son of a bitch, Ryder, I didn’t sleep a damn wink. All I want to do is pull the covers over my head and smother myself into a deep sleep, but it’s the third Friday of the month so I have to meet Dean and the girls at the spa. Fridays are the busiest nights, and tonight is the most hectic night of the month. One evening out of each month, we perform a solo and in groups, so we must keep our goodies up to par with our profession. Today, along with our manis and pedis, we’re getting Brazilian bikini waxes. Some of the girls bitch and moan about it, but I don’t understand why. Hell, the last thing I want is to be spread eagle before someone’s face, then look down and see Chewbacca’s little sister escaping the sides of my thong. It’s terrible for business. No one likes a bushy pussy.

However, I wish Dean would
schedule our appointments early in the week, not the day we perform. There are too many aftercare steps. No wearing tight panties for twenty-four hours. So, we can’t wear our tight, skimpy bottoms, only mesh. No touching for twenty-four to forty-eight hours to limit infection or irritation. That means we can’t accept money into the front of our thongs, which is our members favorite place to treat us, and keeping our tops on is out of the question. I can’t begin to imagine the riot that would break out if we didn’t flash our headlights. They don’t pay us to be modest. Hell, they would see more than that just by visiting South Beach.

Reluctantly rolling out of bed, I head for the shower to prep for my session. When I finish exfoliating, I dry and
put on a strapless, pink cotton dress. Pulling my hair back into a ponytail, I go into my kitchen and pop two Tylenol to help prevent discomfort later. No matter how many times I get waxing, it still hurts.

Grabbing a bottle
of water, I slip on my white wedges and head out to my car. As I make my way to my car, Gavin blocks my path as he lays mulch around the flowers that line my walkway. “Good afternoon, Piper,” he smiles. Gavin is the community landscaper. He’s adoringly handsome, and has a heart of gold, which is why I keep my distance, and try my damnedest not to lead him on. Standing, he removes his mulch-covered gloves and shoves them into the back pockets of his tight, holey jeans.

His toned chest and abs glisten
with sweat from intense heat the sun is radiating. Reaching out to him, I offer him my cold water, and he accepts it with a wink. After chugging down the water, he says, “Thanks, Piper. So, when are you going to take me up on my offer? I’ll take you wherever you want to go.” For over a year, he’s begged me to go out on a date with him. As tempting as it may be, I can’t accept. He’s a great guy, and I don’t want to be the woman who ruins him by breaking his heart.

Placing my hand onto his shoulder, I flash him a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry,
Gavin, but it’s not going to happen.” Giving him a pat on the shoulder, I maneuver around him and walk to my car.

“You don’t know what you’re missing, passing all this up,” he calls, motioning up and down his crotch area.

“I’m sure it’s a lot, Gavin. See you later,” I giggle. Starting the engine to my Audi R8 convertible, I let the top down and drive toward the spa.

Fifteen minutes later, I pull into the parking lot and silence my engine.
Before I remove my keys from the ignition, Dean’s knocking at my window. Unlocking my doors, he opens it and extends his hand to help me from my seat. “Hey, sexy girl,” he greets. Placing his hand to the small of my back, he guides me toward the spa’s entrance. With each step we take, his hand slips lower and lower.

“Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Your hand… move it higher,” I
instruct.

Chuckling, he opens the door an
d motions me inside. After years of repeated rejection, I figured he would understand I’m not sleeping with him. God, I’ve been tempted to cave in to my lusty desires, but it will never happen. If I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s you don’t mix business with pleasure, which is why I need to keep my distance from Ryder. If things went badly, it would be the end of my career. Besides, I actually care about Dean. He’s more than my boss. He’s a great friend, and I never want things to get awkward between us.

“Piper!” My ears ring as Gemma runs to me, squealing my name at the top of her
voice. With her arms open wide, she wraps her arms around my neck and gives a tight squeeze. “Hey, Gem. How’s that ankle?” She lost her grip during one of her moves, slipped to the floor, and rolled her ankle on impact. She’s been out for six weeks with a sprain, but she got cleared to return to the stage tonight.

“Girl, good as gold,”
she replies, nonchalantly. Releasing my neck, she goes back to her seat where Starlet, Candy, and Jasmine sit in massage chairs.

“Good as gold, hu
h? Why are you limping?” I call her bluff. Taking the massage chair beside Gemma, I lower my feet into the bubbly spa and relax.

“Remember that
lawyer I met on vacation?” I nod. “Well, just know my limping has nothing to do with my ankle,” she boasts.

“Well, you be sure to get it under control before tonight’s show.” The next
twenty-five minutes I listen to Gemma tell me how she’s head over heels for a man she’s known for less than five months. She visited New York for vacation, almost got knocked over by a bicyclist, and her ‘knight in shining armor’ pulled her out of harm’s way. Now, she’s convinced he’s her soul mate. She calls it fate, but I call it for what it is, luck. Love only exists in fairytales, and fairytales are bogus.

When my toenails are dry, the esthetician calls me back into her private area. Positioning myself into her chair, I place a foot in each
stirrup. “Okay, take a deep breath in and let it out, slowly.” Following her instructions, I feel her coat my bikini line with hot, thick, and sticky wax. As soon as I release the lung full of air I inhaled, she rips the paper strip from my most sensitive area. “Agh! No counting?” I wince.

Moving to the opposite side, she scrunches her nose and says, “It hurts less when you’re not expecting it.”

“Uh, no, no it doesn’t. I’ve been through this more than once, and it’s less agonizing when you give some sort of warning,” I argue.

“Okay…
WARNING!” she screams, repeating the same technique she used the last time.

“
Aghhh. I said a countdown, goddammit.” Ignoring my excruciating outburst, she spreads wax over my mound. “You said give you a warning, that’s what I gave you,” she shrugs.

“Fair enough,” I nod, as she flattens another strip. “
How about 1, 2, warning?”

She gives a curt nod.
“1, 2, WARNING!”

Gripping the sides of the chair and squeezing my eyes closed, I take in a mouth full of
air and hold it, bracing myself for the burning torture. Either I’m numb from the seven layers too many being torn from my pussy or pain is mentally controlled, but I didn’t feel a thing. “Thank you,” I exhale.

After I’m finished with the esthetician from hell, I tie my robe
, and go to meet Dean in the private waiting area he pays extra for. I’m the last one to join in, and the girls are already lined up and awaiting Dean’s instruction. While Dean dismisses the estheticians with large tips, I scurry over and take my place at the end of line. Turning to face us, Dean crosses his arms and says, “Ladies, please remove your robes.” Of course, I’m the first to drop my robe. I untie the damn thing and toss it across the room.

Sporting an ear-to-ear smile, Dean makes his way before me. His chocolate eyes travel alon
g my body, inspecting every inch. When his eyes make it to my red, smooth mound, he nods appreciatively. “Perfect, as usual, Piper,” he praises. “You may dress and go ahead on over to the club. Beast is already there. I’d like for you to help Gemma prepare for tonight’s performances.”

“Got it, boss.” Leaving the robe behind, I go over and slip on my dress. When I get into my car, I check my phone and see I have a missed call from
Paul, my father. Weird. He hasn’t called me in over six months. Curious to see if something’s wrong, I return his call, but he ignores my call and sends me to voicemail. Asshole. Tossing my phone into the passenger’s seat, I drive to Delectable Desires.

When I pull into my parking space, I get an uneasy feeling when the only car I see isn’t Beast’s
, it’s Sailor’s, my ex-master. Sailor and I met during my seventh month at DD. Covered in tattoos, with tousled blond hair, and baby blue eyes, he quickly gained my interest. The first time he slid money into my garter, his fingers brushed the inside of my thigh and took my breath away. From that point on, his touch held me hostage. Each night I took the stage, I danced for him, only him.

The more he touched me, the more I craved. Weeks went by and nothing happened. At night, I’d lose sleep imagining how it would feel to have his hands caress my body. I’d longed for him to claim me, to sooth the ache he left between my thighs. One night, I decided to take matters into my own hands. I had never been one to approach a man,
they always came to me, but if he wasn’t going to man up and make a move, I was.

That night,
I settled on a skimpy two-piece, a black lace tube top, matching thong and chaps, and red seven-inch cutout platforms. The theme of the night was Rock N Roll, and Dean let the members chose which song each dancer would perform to. Once I was in position, lights flashed and the familiar beat of “She Rides” by Danzig boomed through the building. As the lyrics “She rides” filled my ears, I did exactly that. I rode the pole. I climbed up and down the pole performing various tricks, and then went into a floor routine. My eyes remained attached to Sailor’s as I made my way off the stage and straddled his lap. Then, I gave him the best fucking lap dance in all of lap dancing history. As I ground my pussy against his responsive cock, I took my hard nipples and ran then across his bottom lip.

Immediately, Sailor’s mouth opened and captured my sensitive bud. Sailor had no self-control. He lift
ed us off the chair, walked us out of the club, and took me to his car. He laid me on the hood of his silver Pagaini Zonda Cinque Roadster; a ridiculously expensive and sexy sports car. With my back flat against the hood, he ran the tips of his fingers down the middle of my stomach. Sliding his fingers into the front of my panties, he ripped the mesh material from my body. It wasn’t until I heard the tearing foil that I realized he had dropped his shorts. Flawlessly, he guided the rippled latex down his glorious, hard length. Taking hold of the outside of my thighs, he pulled me down the hood and slammed into me. In the middle of a busy city, on the hood of a car, Sailor fucked me hard and stole my heart.

He fucked me in ways I’
d never been fucked before. I still haven’t experienced anyone even a fraction as good as Sailor was. He introduced me to a lifestyle I had no clue existed, a life of bondage and discipline. A life where I quickly discovered pain is my pleasure. It was something I craved each day, and something I still yearn for, yet, I’ll never have.

Sailor
is the only man I’ve ever loved. When we decided to be monogamous, he stressed how important trust was, how crucial it is to having a successful relationship. I believed him. I trusted him with my life. Just when things between us got serious, I discovered he was the biggest fucking hypocrite to walk this Earth. After a night of pleasurable lashings and multiple orgasms, Sailor fell into a deep, deep sleep. His cell phone rang constantly, but he never rolled over to answer. When his phone rang for a sixth time, and he still didn’t budge, I reached over and answered the call.

To my surprise, there was an extremely pissed of woman on the other end. “Who in the hell is this?” she seethed.

“Who the fuck is this?” I retorted.

“Why are you answering my husband’s phone,” she questioned, completely baffled.

“I’
m sorry. I think you’ve dialed the wrong number. Who are you trying to reach?” I asked.

“Damn right, you’re sorry. I don’t have the wrong number. Where is Sailor?” My heart plummeted deep into the dark pit of my stomach. My Sailor, my master… he was married.

Livid, I threw the phone at his head and told him to get the fuck out of my apartment. As tears poured down my face, I confronted the lying fuck about living a double life, and he didn’t deny it. Worst part about the entire situation was they were expecting their second child in a matter of weeks. I am many things, but a home wrecker isn’t one of them. I have standards. I don’t mess around with married men, knowingly anyway.

Sailor tried to use my weakness against me
. Told me if I didn’t close my mouth and stop telling him to leave, he’d stick something in it and spank me while he rammed his dick into the back of my throat. Tempting as it was, shit was not going to happen. With fury pumping through my veins, I bitch slapped him so hard his cheeks made a clapping sound. When he brought his face back around, I expected to see anger, but I didn’t. What I saw was watery eyes full of regret and pain. He leaned in to kiss me one last time, but I pushed him away. “We aren’t finished, Piper. I’ll never release you. You are, and will forever be, mine,” he promised.