Mistress Mine (3 page)

Determined to move on with her life, Juliette sauntered
toward the bar.

Trey sensed the pair of eyes boring into his back before he
became aware of soft footsteps coming toward him. His gut tightened along with
his cock, although he couldn’t tell why. Somehow he knew he was about to get
what he had been looking for since entering the club. Not knowing how a
submissive went about hooking up, he opted for the obvious choice of sitting
down and waiting for a Domme to come to him. It seemed like the right thing to
do, except now that someone approached him, he felt a little like a cornered
animal. Slowly, he turned on his stool and looked behind him.

Surprise hit him first. There was a woman coming his way,
her gaze locked on his. But this wasn’t the kind of woman he had expected in a
fetish club. Her clothes were casual business attire, her long hair pulled back
in a braid of some sort. Other than a hint of shiny red beneath her jacket,
there was nothing overtly sexual about her. Somehow the simple attire made her
more commanding, more interesting. And then there was the matter of the flogger
she held. Mesmerized, he stared at it swinging in time with her gait. Blood
pooled farther into his groin, his cock swelled to an even harder length. He
fought to steady his breath as he watched her come closer and closer.

The woman stopped in front of him and cocked her head.
“Stand up.”

The order surprised him. No, “hi, my name is” or any other
pleasantries to break the ice. No effort to discern his interests. Shit, maybe
his submissiveness was obvious to this woman. He was new to all this, though,
and he wasn’t sure he liked being ordered about without so much as a
by-your-leave. The woman continued to stare at him, an unreadable expression on
her face. She clearly expected him to comply, so he did. No point in coming to
the club if he wasn’t willing to give it, whatever
it
was, a try.

Sliding off the stool, Trey stood in front of the woman,
looking down at her. She was tall, maybe five eight, but at six three, he was
taller. Having the height advantage put him more at ease. The way the woman
looked him up and down, as if assessing his worth, made him want to squirm. He
fought to remain still. He had his pride, after all. Let her look. He knew she
wouldn’t find him wanting. When her scrutiny slid to his groin and lingered
there, he suppressed a grin. He definitely had a package to be proud of.

Her gaze swept up. He stared back and made his own
assessment. Fair was fair, and man, was she ever fair, make that pretty. Light,
creamy skin with deep blue eyes set in an oval face. There was a hint of fine
lines around her eyes showing maturity. He figured she was about forty. Perfect
for him. He wanted experienced and he wanted a woman he could talk to when they
were done fucking. Her pale pink lips pursed.

“Eyes down.”

What? No way. He wanted to get a good look at her, too,
before they started to play. When he continued to look back at her, she tsked.
“Sorry, my mistake.” She turned to walk away.

Shit! “No, wait, please,” he blurted out before he could
question the wisdom of it. Reaching out, he touched her arm briefly before
snatching it back. Way to look like a predator or a loser. Besides, the big
bouncer, Hayden, had stepped into view when Trey called out. The man was not
going to allow any trouble. Trey held up his hands in surrender, but the other
man didn’t look away again until the woman nodded.

She pivoted back with raised eyebrows. She slid the strands
of her flogger idly through one hand. Silently she stared until he did as she
had commanded, he lowered his gaze to the floor. “Good,” she said in a clipped
voice. “Now, hands behind your back.”

This time, he hesitated only a second before complying. At
least the stance was familiar. He acted as if he were at parade rest. “I’m
sorry,” he said, not sure that speaking was the right thing to do. “I’m new to
all of this. I’m going to need a lot of patience I’m afraid.”

Her shoes came into view. “I’m a very patient woman, but if
we’re going to play together, you’re going to have to give me control and
you’re going to have to trust me.”

Trey swallowed audibly. It was hard to breathe, his chest
was so tight. But his balls were tight against his body, too, a testament to
how aroused he was. “It’s going to be difficult for me. I’m used to being in
control.”

“I know,” she replied in a silky voice that raised the hairs
on his arms. “I can tell that about you. It’s what I find appealing.” She ran a
single finger down one of his arms. He shivered at the touch. “So much
strength. I’m going to enjoy your submitting it to me. You are going to submit
to me, aren’t you?”

“Yes, ma’am.” His reply came out in a low tone, almost a
whisper. The blood was churning within him so hot and fast, he could barely
speak.

“Ma’am is fine, so is Mistress, or even Domina, if you’d
like. My name is Juliette, and if you are very good, I may let you call me that.
Now tell me your name.”

“Trey.”

His voice was as smooth as sipping whiskey with a hint of
southern in the tone. The sound of it electrified her body. Her blood raced to
swell those parts of her that evidenced her arousal. She wanted to grab him by
the belt and shove him into a room to start his training. It was the most
excited she had been in months. Yet, caution stilled her movements. On the
surface, this was exactly the kind of man she searched for. His response to her
in the few seconds they had interacted told a different story. He was reluctant
to submit to her. Even standing as she had commanded, he appeared a warrior
ready to take command himself. Not surprisingly, he showcased military
training, his back ramrod straight. Given the shortness of his hair and the
perfection of his hard body, she figured he was either still in the military or
newly mustered out. Either way, the notion sent her desire into overdrive.
Military men had always been her fantasy.

In a very deliberate way, she scrutinized him, drinking in
the delicious details of his body. The biceps and triceps were marvelously cut.
His tight t-shirt hugged impressive pecs and gave a hint of tight abs. And,
then there was the lovely bulge of his jeans. His cock was a hard ridge
pressing against the worn material. She’d seen countless men both clothed and
unclothed in her life, and she knew a large cock when it saluted her. Her
tongue flicked out to lick her dry lips at the thought of freeing him to her
touch. Her breath quickened and her lizard brain screamed in frustration at
her. What was she waiting for?

What indeed? By his own admission, this man, Trey, was used
to being in charge. He was new to the Dom/sub lifestyle. The fact that he was
in the club meant he was looking to pursue his true nature. But his reluctance
to respond to her commands warned her that he might not be able to truly give
up control. If she ended up in another power struggle such as the one she’d had
with Tom, she might never recover her place as a Domme.

Juliette took a deep breath to steady herself. She was being
a ninny, jumping ahead to a point in time that might never occur. Tonight
didn’t have to mean anything more than having fun, trying out someone new. So
what if he turned out to be a controlling shit? She’d walk away and find
someone else. She tightened her grip on the flogger for a few seconds to dispel
some of her nervous energy. Then she got down to business.

“Is there any alcohol in that drink?”

“No, ma’am, it’s soda water. The bartender said no alcohol
if I wanted to play.”

“Good. Follow me,” she commanded in a clipped tone.

Walking toward the hallway to the play rooms, she gave
thought to what kind of room and what kind of play she intended. Something
simple would be best this first time. No need to freak the newbie out with some
medieval dungeon scene. She didn’t intend to do more than introduce him to
restraint and perhaps a little pain. Her flogger twitched in her hand as if it
had a mind of its own. Yes, a good plan. She didn’t check to see if Trey followed
her. If he hadn’t done so, he was out of the game before it even started. She
could hear the soft tread of his sneakers behind her in any event.

Dru intercepted them before they reached the hall.
“Everything all right?”

“For now,” Juliette confirmed. She liked how the staff
checked up on them. It meant the club wasn’t simply a flashy place to make some
money. These people understood the lifestyle which meant they understood safe
play. “I’m looking for a simple set up. Could you please recommend a room?”

Dru smiled and turned to point at the first door on the
right. “I think that one will fit the bill.”

“Thank you.” With a nod, Juliette continued. Trey followed.
Opening the indicated door, she peeked inside and saw what had been promised, a
simple, small room with a large leather chair, a padded bench, and manacles
hanging from one wall. Dimly lit, painted in an off-white color and with a
brown stone floor, it was a tad boring, but that was okay. The surroundings
would hopefully put her new boy at ease.

Stepping inside, she held the door open and beckoned Trey.
He still had his hands behind his back and his eyes down, but damn, there was
nothing subservient about the guy. He looked confident and in control of his
surroundings. If he was nervous it didn’t show, except when he passed her, she
could see that one hand gripped the other so tight, his knuckles were white.
Not so confident after all. Good, in a way. It wasn’t that she wanted him
afraid, of course. Fear wasn’t the objective, trust was. If being in this room
with her made him uneasy, it indicated his agenda didn’t include controlling
her. At least she hoped it did.

And she could stand there all night, analyzing Trey and
their situation to death. Or she could go about breaking in her new boy.
Resolved to stop fretting and start playing, Juliette shut the door and flicked
the switch that would light up the sign she had seen next to the door. The room
was now “occupied” and no one would bother them, unless of course things got
out of hand. That wouldn’t happen. She wouldn’t let it. She understood the
magnitude of what she did, the responsibility that came with being a Domme. If
all went well, Trey would put his body in her hands. She would take good care
of it. She would take good care of him.

Trey had stopped a few feet into the room, waiting for her
to tell him what to do. Good boy. She sauntered past him, letting her hips sway
with the sensuality coursing through her body. She flicked the flogger against
her leg, letting the gentle sting heighten her passion. As eager as she was to
play, ground rules needed to be established first. Sitting down in the chair,
she settled back and crossed her legs. The flogger rested on her lap.

“Come here and kneel in front of me.” She watched him
approach her and couldn’t hold back a small smile of satisfaction.

Chapter Three

Trey kept his steps slow and measured even though he wanted
to hurry. It was that damn pride again, he supposed. He didn’t want to appear
too eager to do this woman’s bidding. Of course, the hard ridge of his cock
leading the way was an obvious indication. He didn’t know what to expect and
that uncertainty was perversely incredibly arousing. Being in this room with a
woman who would take control away from him made him as hard and horny as a
teenager. He was having trouble catching his breath and his balls ached with
the need to release. It was as if he were coming off a deployment, not a guy
who had jerked himself off multiple times less than a day past.

He was careful to keep his eyes down, yet he could feel her
cool gaze on him as he stopped in front of her and slowly sank to his knees.
The stone floor was hard and the mild discomfort only increased his arousal.
Holy God, how had he missed his need for submissiveness and pain? Having taken
a furtive look at the room, he knew that while it was Spartan, it contained
enough for him to be initiated into the dark and exciting world of BDSM. Then
there was the flogger. Lying on the woman’s lap—dare he think of her as his
Mistress?—it was elegant in its simplicity. He wondered what it would feel like
slapping against his skin. His cock jerked. It was obviously ready to find out.

“You may look at me.”

That voice, so soft, yet firm, with a hint of a Boston
accent. When he raised his gaze, she looked back at him, an unreadable
expression on her face. If she was as turned on by all of this as he was, he
couldn’t tell. There were so many questions he wanted to ask her. He struggled
to remain silent. This was not a briefing of an assignment. He didn’t need to
know everything, only what she decided to tell him. She was in control, not
him. He didn’t have to worry about anything at all. Not his job. He willed
himself to relax, loosening his grip, letting his shoulders slump down.

His Mistress nodded. “Good, you’re starting to understand
that in here, you may let go. What we do, what will or will not happen is for
me to decide. You have no duty here save obeying me. Simple. Relaxing, is it
not?”

Trey took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yes, yes, it
is. Mistress,” he added on. Remembering to show her the proper respect should
be easy for him. It was no different from being in the army.

Lifting one foot, she placed the toe of her shoe lightly
against his erection. A grunt escaped his lips before he could stop it. She
smiled. “You don’t have to hide your pleasure. I like seeing you hard. Do your
balls ache?”

The question caught him by surprise, but he smiled back at
her and answered truthfully. “Yes.”

“Would you like me to undo those pants, reach inside and
curl my fingers around your cock? Do you want me to squeeze and pump your hard
flesh until your balls empty themselves all over my hand?” To emphasize her
words, she pressed her foot more firmly against his package.