I Am a Dominant Page 4

  “Come for me, you are my wench and you will do as I say.”

  My hand landed with robust spanks as my cock thrust with determined wantonness, and groaning loudly I exploded into her beautiful bottom.

  Though overcome with my powerful release I could hear her orgasmic howls, but it wasn’t long before my jerking spasms began to wane, and my flaccid cock slipped from her dark depths. Catching my breath I stared down at her and found her limp, almost comatose.

  Though I was dizzy I managed to lift her from the stone bench, and grabbing my jacket to spread on the ground, I sat her next to me, wrapping my arms around her; she nestled against me and I let my head fall on to hers. It was an astoundingly intimate moment, the most intimate I’d felt with a woman, and the entire experience had quite taken my breath away.

  “James?”

  I wasn’t sure for how long we’d been sitting there, floating in the orgasmic afterglow, but opening my eyes I felt a cramp in my shoulder.

  “Mirren?”

  “Wench! You called me a wench,” she sighed.

  “I know, I can’t believe it. I have no idea where that came from.”

  “It was perfect, everything was perfect,” she breathed, kissing my cheek. “You were perfect…husband.”

  I felt a sudden unease, and extricating myself I stood up to stretch, but as I did my initial hesitation flashed through my mind; the sense that there was more to Mirren’s request than acting out a fantasy. Praying I hadn’t just made a terrible mistake I began to dress, and as I glanced across at her I knew my prayers would not be answered.

  It was written all over her face; her fear, her hope, her need, and yes, her love.

  The remainder of the weekend was foggy, at least for me. The dinner party that evening was a series of smiles and handshakes, and slaps on the back. I drank a hair too much, and Mirren was excessively affectionate, even in front of her father, which made me very nervous.

  Everything between Mirren and I changed after that weekend, with the predictable and tragic outcome. I learned a difficult lesson, and was plagued with guilt and shame for some time. I had adored Mirren, and I hurt her very badly.

  Bringing her dream to life imbedded me in her heart, and whether she’d been in love with me before that weekend I don’t know, but she certainly was after it. In many ways I was immature, and while there had been moments when I’d thought I was in love with her, Mirren’s intense feelings for me made it blindingly obvious those few moments didn’t measure up.

  It’s possible I would have broken her heart even if we’d not embraced the mysterious, haunting cavern, but looking back I should have had the wisdom to gently say no; that experience was something that should have been reserved for the one, and I was not the one.

  Sometimes a fantasy should remain just that, a fantasy, until it is made a reality at the right time, with the right person, for the right reasons.

  Mirren will always hold a piece of my heart. How could she not? Before I’d met her I may have had my inklings, my long held thoughts and notions, I may have dabbled with scarves tied to bedposts, and slapped the odd bottom or two, but she opened the door, she was the first to call me Sir, and the first woman who truly made my Dominant blood boil.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Sally/Caroline

  I am a member of a well-known BDSM club in London. It’s easy to join but it is pricey, which helps eliminate the insincere, and I’m always delighted when I run into someone I know. Suddenly we share a secret, and when we see each other in the ‘outside’ world, we nod and smile knowingly. It buoys me, makes me feel less alone in the real world.

  It is not an exclusively Male Dominant/female submissive club, it’s an ‘anything goes’ club, and it reminds me how different we all are, and that includes my particular proclivity. Dominant #1 could read this and relate to every word, while Dominant #2 could see it as completely ridiculous.

  Every submissive with whom I have had the joy of sharing my time has taught me something, and each has been unique. Just because I’m a Dominant and ‘she’ is a submissive doesn’t mean we’ll be compatible. That may sound simplistic, but I’m always amazed by those in the vanilla world who think it’s so.

  The club is open four nights a week, Thursday, Friday, Saturday and Sunday, closed on Monday, and on Tuesday and Wednesday it offers workshops and demonstrations, some of which I’ve attended and thoroughly enjoyed, and later in the book there is a story about one of those evenings, so stay tuned.

  My favorite place to hang out is the playroom. Whether I’m there with a friend, a submissive, or by myself, I thoroughly enjoy nursing a drink and watching the participants.

  This particular night was in December, and London was suffering from a severe bout of the white stuff. It was freezing, the roads where slushy, the pavements slick, and I almost didn’t venture out, but I couldn’t stand being locked in my house one more minute.

  I called a car service. Yes, an extravagance, but with the weather like it was I didn’t want to worry about trying to find a taxi, and I sure as hell didn’t want to take my car; I intended on imbibing, and bad weather, driving, and alcohol don’t mix.

  The sedan pulled up and I hurried into the back seat. It wasn’t a limo so offered no privacy screen, and I silently rebuked myself for my lack of foresight; if I happened to meet some delightful creature who was interested in spending more than five minutes with me, I wouldn’t have the option of having a little fun on the way home.

  It took longer than usual for the drive from Hampstead to the club on the outskirts of Central London, but once the car pulled up outside the old brick building I immediately felt a breath of relief. I always feel that way when I arrive. I know that for few hours I am free to be my dark, decadent self, and it’s comforting to be surrounded by like-minded souls.

  The doorman smiled his hello, and as I wandered into the familiar surroundings I was surprised to see so many people. It was an ugly night, but the dance floor was packed, the huge screen flickering out its images as the latest hit songs filled the space.

  Walking up the stairs to the second floor, an area that was reserved for drinking and eating and was fairly innocuous, I moved across to the bar and was about to order a scotch when I saw a familiar face. Though we’d never been introduced, I’d not only seen the man at the club many times, but on several occasions around the financial district where my office is located. We always nodded and smiled, but as he approached I noticed he was sporting a frown.

  He stopped next to me and we acknowledged each other with a cursory nod of our heads and a friendly greeting, then he asked the bartender for a bottle of Cabernet and three glasses. The name of the wine caught my attention; it wasn’t cheap, and the club was notoriously expensive, which meant the wine would be a ridiculous price.

  “An indulgence,” he admitted, turning and giving me a look of resignation. “I know I’m paying through the nose but sometimes one must.”

  “Absolutely,” I nodded.

  “The truth is, I feel a bit guilty about it,” he remarked, lowering his voice.

  The bartender placed the bottle and the three glasses on the counter, and offered the man a tray.

  “That would be helpful, thanks,” he said, then looked back at me. “My name’s Peter. Seems about time we officially met. What brings you out on such a dreadful night?”

  “James,” I responded, shaking his hand. “Like everyone else, I suppose. Had to get out of the house. You?”

  “Bit of thing, I’m afraid. The wife’s best friend, she has a spotty time with men. Just finished with another one and Janet, that’s my wife, insisted we bring her here to give her something else to think about. I think she’s accomplished her goal. The poor thing can’t believe her eyes.”

  “If she’s never been to a place like this I can understand why,” I grinned, glancing around the room at the various characters wandering about.

  “Um, this is probably a bit of a cheek,” he began slowly, “but I don’t s
uppose you’d care to join me, or rather, us? You’d be doing me an enormous favor. In a little while I want to take Janet up to the playroom, and, well, I’m not sure I want her friend tagging along.”

  The playroom was on the third floor, and while it was well laid out with a few private areas, it was an intimate space. Eyes of strangers is one thing, eyes of those we know on the outside is quite another.

  “Ah, yes, I understand,” I smiled. “Certainly, I’d be delighted.”

  “Excellent, many thanks,” he smiled, his relief almost palpable.

  He requested a fourth glass, and following him through the crowd I spotted the table to which he was headed. Both women were very attractive, and it was easy to spot his wife; undoubtedly the one wearing the corset.

  Her unnamed friend was in a white glossy shirt with large black buttons, and her eyes were focused on a man leading a woman through the tables on a leash. The couple were worthy of her stare, the woman was dressed in a glossy leather bra, shorts, and thigh-high stiletto boots.

  “Sally, Janet, this is James, and he’s joining us,” Peter announced as he carefully set the tray on the table.

  I was immediately struck by Sally’s almond-shaped dark eyes, and though I suspected she was nervous she possessed an appealing confident poise.

  “Hello,” she smiled, staring at me, her thoughts blatantly obvious. You look so normal.

  I was tempted to say, looks can be deceiving, but I didn’t want to shock her right off the bat, so I simply returned her smile and asked if she was enjoying the club.

  “Enjoying? Yes, I’d say enjoying would be the right word. It’s one of the most entertaining nights I’ve had in a while. There’s so much to take in.”

  She had a deep, sultry voice, and I could imagine her doing voice-overs for an exotic drink, or perfume, or anything that had a subtle, sensual appeal. As Peter poured the wine and passed around the glasses I could see Peter’s wife was grateful for my company, and Peter’s frown was fading.

  The minutes of small talk ticked by and I found myself attracted to Sally, the combination of her dark liquid eyes and seductive voice impossible to ignore, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she had any submissive inklings. I knew the environment would certainly encourage her if she did, so when the ladies excused themselves to visit the powder room…translation…talk about the man who had unexpectedly joined them…I immediately took advantage of the moment alone with Peter.

  “Sally’s interesting,” I began. “I’d be happy to keep her company if you want to whisk Janet upstairs.”

  “That would be a profound, yes,” he declared, “and an even more profound thank you. Are you sure?”

  “I’m absolutely sure, assuming Janet’s okay with that, and Sally too of course.”

  “Please, dear God,” Peter sighed.

  “She’s very attractive, seems sharp, interesting…”

  “Don’t get me wrong,” Peter said, “I like her, but she does have her issues.”

  “Care to elucidate?”

  “Janet is always picking up the pieces of her failed affairs, and I have the impression Sally might have a bit of a temper.”

  “You and I know how to deal with that,” I winked.

  “Indeed,” Peter grinned.

  “Why don’t I offer to show her around the club? If she agrees I’ll take her to the playroom first, then it should be clear for you to go up after twenty minutes or so.”

  “Unless she wants to stay once she gets there,” Peter grimaced, “and I should warn you, she does have a bit of an attitude tonight so be prepared to be patient.”

  “Thanks for the heads-up, and I’ll make sure we leave the playroom in plenty of time, don’t worry about that,” I assured him, “and here they come.”

  Sally and Janet were working their way back through the tables, and I noticed Sally had freshened up her lipstick and brushed her hair; it was a positive sign. As they settled back down, being the proactive man that I am, I turned to face her wearing my winningest smile.

  “Since this is your first time here, may I have the honor of giving you the grand tour?”

  She looked right back at me, and I mean, directly into my eyes.

  “You may.”

  The two words were said in an almost haughty tone, as though she was granting me a huge favor, and my first reaction was (of course) an intense desire to yank her over my knee and spank her soundly.

  “Would you like the adventure first, or the easy stuff?” I asked standing up from the table and offering my hand.

  “Adventure of course. I’m sure that’s the answer you wanted,” she replied, and ignoring my hand she moved past me and stood quite still, staring up at me with an expectant gaze.

  From the corner of my eye I saw Janet shoot her husband a worried look, and wished dearly that I could lean across the table to reassure her. I wanted to tell her that Sally was in more than capable hands, and there was nothing she need worry about, but I couldn’t so I did the next best thing; I cracked a joke.

  “That’s quite impossible. Women never give me the answer I want, but then I get to spank it out of them, and that’s always a pleasure.”

  Peter thought it was about the funniest thing he’d ever heard and burst into a rolling laugh, Janet began to giggle, but Sally barely reacted, and in that moment I felt sorry for her.

  My goodness, you are a sad girl. If nothing else I’ll make you smile tonight, even if it’s at my expense.

  “Why don’t we meet back here in, say, an hour?” I continued.

  “An hour?” Sally piped up.

  “Not long enough?” I asked feigning sincerity.

  She shot me a scowl, and taking her elbow I began to gently guide her away.

  “I think Peter and Janet would like some time to themselves,” I said quietly. “It’s not that I think you’ll be captivated by my scintillating company.”

  “Just as well,” she sighed.

  “I promise I’m not that bad,” I said calmly, wondering if she wanted to draw me into some kind of confrontation.

  “That remains to be seen.”

  “I haven’t had too many complaints,” I said affably, and Peter wasn’t kidding. You’ve got an attitude on steroids.

  Leading her to the stairs I dropped her elbow and reached for her hand, ready for the defensive reaction I was sure she’d give me.

  “Hey, what do you think you’re doing?” she asked, responding exactly as I thought she would.

  “Making sure that the men here think you’re with me. You’re not of course, and once we’ve left the particular area we’re about to enter I promise to stay three feet away from you at all times.”

  “I don’t understand. Are you saying they’ll try to-?”

  “I’m saying that in the playroom if a woman is alone, or with a man who makes it obvious he’s just a friend, it’s okay for another man to ask her if she’d like to be spanked, or tied up, or-”

  “You’re not serious?” she exclaimed.

  “I am absolutely serious. It doesn’t matter to me if you hold my hand or not, but I think it might matter to you.”

  We’d reached the top of the stairs, and a burgundy velvet curtain was the only thing between us and the playroom.

  “We don’t have to go in at all if you don’t want to.”

  Muffled moans, and intriguing sounds were filtering through, and I could see her curiosity was going to win out.

  “Fine, but don’t get any ideas,” she warned, then wrapped her fingers around mine.

  Her hand felt diminutive, and soft, very soft, and I felt an overwhelming desire to pull her into my arms and promise her that everything would be all right.

  I wanted to help her cry, because that’s what she needed, to cry and let out all her anger, then nestle in my lap and be comforted, but I knew we were a long way from that happening, and behind the curtain the playroom was waiting. Inwardly sighing I pushed the heavy drapes aside and led her in.

  CHAPTER FIVE
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  Sally and The Playroom

  Instantly my spirits were lifted. I love the playroom. I love the dim, intimate lighting, the energy, the beautiful women and all their shapes and sizes, the sissy boys being displayed by their leather-clad Mistresses, their corsets and boots flashing in the muted light, and I especially enjoy the stocks that hold center stage.

  “Bloody hell.”

  I knew she hadn’t meant to say it, but in that moment her guard dropped, and I leaned my lips to her ear.

  “Don’t worry, there’s a booth where you can watch unnoticed. I know the manager, and if it’s not booked I can get it.”

  “That would be good,” she remarked.

  There was a bouncer perched on a stool by the curtain, and though I couldn’t recall his name, when I caught his eye he recognized me, and breaking into a smile he left his post and ambled across to us.

  “Evening, is there something you need?”

  “Yes, is Charles here? I want to nab booth five, wasn’t sure if it’s been reserved.”

  “Nope, not that I’ve been told. Go ahead, I’ll let him know.”

  “Thanks…uh…?”

  “Rex.”

  “Ah, yes, Rex, thanks,” I nodded, and shaking his hand I discreetly planted a ten pound note. It was generous, but it meant if I ever needed a favor again it would be swiftly granted.

  Sally had remained quiet, and as I glanced down at her I realized something had caught her attention. Following her gaze I was surprised to see she was watching a couple hugging each other. The girl’s short skirt was still up around her waist, her freshly spanked, red bottom visible. Her Dominant was rocking her as he stroked her hair, occasionally kissing her lightly and whispering in her ear. It was a touching sight, the loving interaction showing their unique, close connection.

  “Are you ready to sit down?” I asked.

  “What? Yes…yes, I’m ready,” she replied, but I heard a crack in her voice, and I knew the couple had touched her hurting heart.