Playing for Keeps (5 page)

“Matt, wait – I haven’t put on any shoes!”

“You won’t need them,” he replied.

Asshole. Of course she would need shoes – she wasn’t going to have her feet trodden all over at a party. She hoped nobody got that close with how little she was wearing. She quivered in trepidation as she thought of how exposed she was, but there was also a frisson of excitement starting to bubble inside. The leather-clad men reminded her of the dungeon masters in her romance books and she started to wonder what kind of hotel Matt had brought her to.

At the end of the corridor an open lift was waiting, the two goons, attendants, whatever the hell they were, stood back to let her and Matt precede them into the lift. She kept her eyes downcast, too embarrassed to meet their knowing stares. Christ what had she gotten herself into? She didn’t recognize Matt tonight. He was acting a lot more forceful than he normally would. The voice on the phone had referred to him as ‘Master Matt’. She began to wonder if there was more to the costume party than she had first thought.

She whispered to Matt, “Who are they?”

“Quiet!” he snapped, not sounding his usual self. “All will be revealed.”

Her hand trembled in his and she accepted his gentle squeeze of reassurance. She saw he was nervous. Whatever he had planned, he was obviously unsure about his choice. She only hoped the night would turn out as good as he obviously wanted it to. If it was going to be anything like the earlier part of their evening, he had nothing to worry about. He had been dominant, forceful, rough, everything she had fantasized about.

The lift descended three floors, she knew because she counted. Odd though, because she would have sworn they were only on the second floor.

“Is the party being held in the basement?”

“The dungeons.”

Matt felt her trembling increase and although he wanted to surprise her, his conscience wouldn’t allow him to leave her worrying. He gathered her close and whispered, “Have courage, little one, you know I would never do anything to hurt you.” He had never hurt her. He never would if he could avoid it. Tonight was all about bringing her pleasure, but he realized she didn’t know that yet.

They exited the lift and turned left into a corridor that looked to be hewn from rock. Wall sconces where lit at regular intervals along the passageway and Matt pulled her along as he followed the two escorts down the corridor. She was still nervous. She tightly gripped his hand as they followed their escorts. He wondered what she was thinking. Had she figured out where they were? How was she going to react? His stomach tightened in apprehension. He prayed she would enjoy the surprise he had set up for her.

The escorts finally stopped at the end of the corridor. Once they had handed over a surprisingly modern looking key card, and indicated the door built into the wall, they nodded at Matt, then turned and walked back the way they had come. They had totally ignored Cassie and she looked a little piqued.

Matt slipped the electronic card into the panel at the side of the door. The door slid open sideways to reveal what looked like a canvas entrance flap. He gently pushed Cassie through the doorway and into what looked like the inside of a Bedouin tent.

At first she tried to push back against him, he guessed because she didn’t want to reveal herself, in her semi undressed state. When she relaxed against him he understood she had finally realized that they were alone in the tent.

“I thought we were going to a party?”

“We are,” he whispered. “A party for two.”

He watched the consternation flicker across her face as she looked around the room. The room was decorated to look like the inside of a Moorish tent. There were richly embroidered wall hangings, low tables and many large cushions in bright jewel colors scattered in little groups across the floor. In the center sat a low table and to the side of this was a large divan covered in sumptuous silks and cushions. Lamps, lit low, were dotted around and incense burned in Moorish style brass containers, which hung from the ceiling amongst a myriad of multi-colored pennant type banners. He only hoped she was pleased with what she saw.

“Where are we?”

“Literally?’ he queried. Not waiting for her answer he continued, “We are in a tent,” he said trying to keep his face straight.

“No, not literally!” She stomped her foot and he struggled to contain his grin at her chagrin. He took a deep breath, preparing himself for her response. If he had guessed wrong about her secret desire to be dominated, she would give him hell. However, if his guess was correct, then he hoped for a very rewarding night.

He rather liked that he had thrown her off balance. Payback time. She had had him off balance for months.

“We’re at a club.” His words came out in a rush.

“What kind of club?”

“A very private club.” He watched her closely, taking in her lush curves, as he awaited her response.

She looked like she wanted to kill him. Slowly.

Through gritted teeth she asked, “What kind of private club?”

He watched her carefully, not sure how she was going to react when he told her. “A BDSM club.”

“A BDSM club,” she screamed. You brought me to a kink club for my birthday?”

Cassie couldn’t believe it. She hadn’t thought he had a kinky bone in his body, yet there she was dressed like a concubine in the middle of a BDSM club. In addition, he was dressed like a Sultan, surveying her as if she were a member of his harem. She was starting to get excited, but first she had to make sure she knew exactly what his intentions were. It was one thing to fantasize about taking part in role-play, but another thing altogether when she didn’t know the rules they were playing by. Why had he chosen to play here, now, and not at home?

“Well, you wanted to role-play!” He had the nerve to grin at her. “And what better place than here where the scenes are all set up?”

In the books she’d read, scenes in clubs tended to be public. Although she had wanted to experience the dominant/ submissive lifestyle, she had been thinking of something altogether more private. Imagining him spanking her under the observant gaze of an audience, she asked with trepidation, “What do you mean the scenes are all set up?”

“Look around you. We’ve got a love tent, we’ve got the outfits, everything we need to play out your fantasies,” he said calmly. “There is no way, even with the best will in the world I could have come up with something like this at my place.”

She looked around, taking in all the details of the room. He was telling the truth. There was no way they would have been able to recreate this kind of illusion at home. Try as she might she could make out no cameras, funny looking mirrors or peepholes. It all looked secure and private, which allayed her fears somewhat, but she needed to know that nobody was going to be watching them.

“Matt, are we truly alone? As in, is this room private? No one watching us on cameras or anything?” She nibbled her lip, her concern evident. His groin gave a twitch as he looked at her moist mouth. He imagined the havoc she would bring to his senses later in the night.

“Cassie, we are totally alone. No one is spying on us.

He had never been to a BDSM club in his life before tonight. He had made discreet enquiries and done a lot of research on the internet, and this hotel/club had come out as one of the best.

Matt pulled her into his arms and kissed her gently. “So, what do you say? Fancy being my harem girl for the night?”

“What would that entail?” she asked, breathlessly.

He felt her excitement as she quivered in his arms. Her eyes had widened with arousal and her lips were flushed a deep pink. His stomach muscles tensed and twitched in anticipation of the evening ahead. He was looking forward to putting his careful plans into action. He couldn’t wait to see how she would react to the scene he had set up. Even so, he was glad she was being careful.

He pulled her close and held her tight against his crotch where she was sure to feel his erection. He had been hard since he had first seen her in the costume, and even though he couldn’t see it, he hadn’t forgotten the pearl thong that she wore between her legs. The thought of all those pearls rubbing at her most sensitive spot caused his cock to swell.

“Well…” he paused to give her time to anticipate his reply, “I will be your master for the night. My every wish will be your command.”

Her eyes widened as he continued, “It will be up to you to keep me happy.” The thought alone made him grow harder. He pulled her closer so that she felt his mounting excitement.

A wide smile lit up her face. She looked radiant.

He pulled back to look directly into her eyes, “If you please your master, then he will be pleased with you and will reward you.” He struggled to keep his tone serious. “However if you displease your master, then he will have to punish you.” Her pupils dilated revealing her excitement. He struggled to control the moan of desire rumbling deep in his throat. She was going to be the death of him. How was he supposed to stay in control when she looked at him like that?

“How would my master punish me?” she asked. Her voice trembled and he assumed she was excited by the idea of being punished. She certainly didn’t look afraid...

Christ – she was killing him. He wanted inside her now!

“Well, your master would have to spank you at the very least, if you misbehaved,” he replied. “After all what kind of master would I be if I let you overstep the boundaries?”

He said no more, just left his statement hanging in the air, letting her take in his intentions.

He wasn’t sure she would go for it, but he sure hoped so. He may not have been into role-play at the beginning, but looking at her in the belly dancer outfit had turned him on. Hard and fast.

“Your wish is my command, Master.”

He couldn’t contain the rush of elation at her eager compliance and his stomach muscles tensed in anticipation as he saw the faint blush that stole across her cheeks. Game on.

“Then I would like my dinner, wench. You may feed me.” He lay down on the divan. “Kneel at my side,” he commanded.

“Yes, Master.”

She walked toward him, sashaying provocatively. Her long legs were on display as the scarves of her skirt billowed around and between them. She knelt on the floor at the side of the divan with her eyes downcast. She positioned her hands upturned on her thighs in a sign of supplication.

He looked at the position she had taken up without instruction and was surprised to realize that she was demonstrating submissive qualities. It was the first time he had consciously noticed her doing anything like that and he wondered if she recognized that side of her nature. He wondered how much further he could take her down the road to submission. Tonight he intended to test her to see how far she was willing to submit her will to his own.

“While you feed me I will instruct you in the role of harem slave.” He pointed to the dishes of food that had been laid out on the table.

“May I remove my veil, Master?” she asked huskily. She was looking at him through half shut eyes as if trying to hide her building excitement.

“You must, if you want to eat – but be quick, I’m hungry and not just for food,” he joked.

She quickly dispensed with her veil before she came up onto her knees and removed the food covers revealing an assortment of finger foods. There were cubes of meat coated in spices, slices of vegetables, olives, cheeses marinated in herbed oils and an assortment of fruits. There was also a Turkish style coffee pot and small coffee cups on a tray.

Looking at her on her knees before him, he was damn glad his trousers were loose. He was still semi erect, though he was trying his damnedest to stay in control. She picked up a small piece of chicken with her fingers and leaned over to carry it to his mouth – her lush breasts nearly falling out of her low cut top – forcing him to swallow hard before he could open his mouth to take her offering.

As she popped the chicken into his mouth, he drew her fingers in and gently nipped them. Her quick indrawn breath revealed her surprise and she raised her chin to look directly at him.

“First,” he started, “you do not look at me unless I give you permission.” She quickly cast her eyes downward. Feeling like he had taken a punch to the gut, he exhaled slowly, as her quick acquiescence took him by surprise.

“Second – you do not speak unless I ask you a direct question which requires an answer.” He continued, “You obey my every command without hesitation.” He was getting into his stride now.

“You accept your punishment without argument if punishment is necessary.” He looked at her bowed head. He was really getting into the role himself now. The thought of being able to command her actions was a bigger turn on that he had anticipated.

“Do you agree?”

He raised her chin so that she was looking at him. Did she not realize he had asked her a direct question?

His tone was more forceful when he repeated, “Do you agree?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Right, now we’ve got that out of the way, pick a safe word,” he said. “You use the safe word only if you want to stop this scene. No other reason, not because you’re embarrassed, not because you want to try something different, only if the scene is becoming too extreme and you want to call a halt altogether.”

He focused directly on her as he continued, “If you use the safe word I will stop whatever I am doing immediately and I will take you home.” He watched her carefully to gauge her reaction. “Do you trust me?”

“Yes, Master.” She moistened her lips with her tongue. “Red,” she said. “My safe word is Red. Red for Stop”.

“Red, it is then.” He throatily acknowledged her safe word. He took a deep breath to calm himself. She was going to play along. He didn’t know why he was surprised, after all this was what she had been asking for over the last several months. He had no experience in the BDSM lifestyle to guide him. He prayed that the research he had undertaken with regard to role-play and domination in particular stood him in good stead tonight. He would hate to disappoint her.

“Come sit beside me while we eat.” He pulled her up on to the divan at his side. At this moment, he didn’t care if he never ate again, but it was his duty to make sure that she had enough to eat.