Katty93: I want one, it’s just ...I tried other things. Normal relationships. It just didn’t work.
My lungs still. We’re so alike, yet so different.
Catlvr89: I’m the same way. I don’t want normal.
Katty93: What do you want?
I debate on answering her. But I don’t want to prime her responses.
Catlvr89: You first?
Katty93: LOL
Katty93: I’m weird I think.
Catlvr89: It’s okay. I’m weird too. We can be weird together.
My blood heats, and my dick stirs at her answer and the playfulness of the conversation. I feel as though I’m luring the kitten, my kitten, out to play.
Katty93: I think I like to be dominated.
Catlvr89: What’s weird about that?
Katty93: Like really dominated.
Catlvr89: Does it have something to do with what you went through?
I know it does, but I want to ask. The paperwork and her history, the fucking shrink report I looked up--all of that were other people’s opinions. I want to know what she thinks.
Katty93: It does kind of. In that he was my master.
Katty93: And now I want another.
I suck in a sharp breath and force my dick to calm the fuck down. Seeing her confess only solidifies what I want from her. I need to see her. I need to evaluate our chemistry.
Catlvr89: So you want a master? What do you want from him?
Katty93: It’s fucked up.
Catlvr89: I like fucked up. I want fucked up too.
Katty93: I want him to own me. I want to be a true slave to him, but I need my life too. I’ve been reading these stories. They seem too good to be true. A normal life, but with a M/s relationship. Maybe that’s why I want it. Idk. But there’s a club I’ve been looking into and I’m thinking about going. Just to check it out.
Catlvr89: Why not just do D/s?
Katty93: I don’t want a Dom. I want a Master. There’s a difference and I know what I want. I want him to rule over me. But to do it justly. The way it’s fantasized about. Where I’m cherished and safe and protected and his everything and he’s mine too. I want it to be real.
I close my eyes and force my groan back. It’s like she’s teasing me. Taunting me by saying all the right words. I start to type a response, something about measuring her desires, asking her what she specifically wants. But all of this will be for nothing if the chemistry between us isn’t there, or if she’s simply not ready. I delete the words and the “…” signifying that I’m typing disappears.
Katty93: I realize that I don’t know your history and I really hope you aren’t offended. It wasn’t my intention.
A huff of a laugh leaves me as I sip the whiskey, feeling the warmth flowing through me. She hasn’t offended me in the least, merely given me every indication I was looking for to pursue her. I could push. I could chase. But I need to handle her delicately. She’s like a kitten in a sense. My kitten. Sharp claws, and born into this world ready to claw her way to where she needs to go. But curious. I can rely on that curiosity.
If she wants me, if she truly wants this, she’ll make the initiative.
I’m not a patient man, but good things come to those who wait.
Or so they say.
I down the last bit of whiskey in my glass, the ice clinking and the harsh burn down my throat spreading through my chest. Finally, I respond. Just one little push.
Catlvr89: You won’t know if you don’t go, Katty93
Chapter 6
Katia
The sound of soft, elegant music envelops me as I step into Club X, my heels softly thudding against the plush, rich carpet. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim, ambient lighting as the bouncer that ushered me in gestures to the center of the foyer before leaving to walk back to his post. My eyes are drawn over to where he pointed and I inhale a shocked breath at the sight before me.
The club is absolutely luxurious with a huge ballroom that sports high vaulted ceilings and gorgeous, yet erotic Victorian paintings plastered along all the walls. My feet walk of their own accord closer to where the hum of chatter is coming from. In the middle of the enormous room, finely decorated circular tables dot the area, while a large stage lies in the background, its vast red curtains pulled shut. From what Madam Lynn’s told me, the stage is used for BDSM shows, though there must not be one scheduled for tonight. On one side of the room is an upscale bar with blue ambient lighting that contrasts with the red lighting on the walls from the sconces. It’s all very elegant and alluring. Every detail exudes sex appeal.
My body chills as I realize how far I’ve walked in. I cross my arms over my chest and the bracelet that I found in the box bumps against my breast. I stare down at it. It's simple but elegant, just two thin silver bands with an empty space in between. It means I wish to be a Slave. It’s my membership here, but also a sign to those who are looking for partners. Madam Lynn asked me at least half a dozen times if I was sure. She told me if I changed my mind, I could always have a band put in the middle. A color that would signify my limits. But I’m certain.
I glance up at the large room, and again I’m in awe.
But all of this pales in comparison to the guests milling about the room.
Handsome men wearing party masks, some with animal prints, some adorned with angel wings, and others with full joker masks, fill the large space. Their expensive-looking suits radiate wealth and power, as do their posture and the tone of their voices. Some are sitting at tables, talking with each other, while others are coming in and out of the room, flowing in from a large hallway off to the side that I’m sure leads to other, darker parts of the club. But most of the men have one thing in common--a chained, collared and barely dressed woman at their bidding.
These women follow their Dom or Master with absolute submission, that much is obvious. They’re all so beautiful too, dressed in sparkly and elegant, yet racy dresses that show off their gorgeous curves. They look… healthy. And happy. It’s what surprises me most. My body heats with the realization and I lean slightly against the wall, needing support. This isn’t like my past. This is the fantasy.
I take in a shuddering breath, calming myself. I’m safe here. I open my eyes and watch as a woman seated in a kneeling position on a pillow next to her Master laughs at something he’s said. Or maybe he’s her Dom. I’m not sure. I can’t see her bracelet or his. But what I can see is her obvious devotion and his.
My heart races and as I take in each of the couples, again taken aback by the beautiful clothes they’re wearing, although many of them seem to be no more than scraps of cloth.
Fingering my newbie bracelet, I feel self-conscious with my short black dress that comes up above my knees. It’s not anywhere close to as sexy as the outfits these stunning women have on, but I know I’m just here to check the club out. I’ll have time to dress like them later… if I decide to join. I nod at my inner thoughts. I’m only here to get a taste. A dark voice deep inside of me stirs, whispering that I belong here. I ignore it.
My breath quickens as I watch a Master stop in his tracks to pet his Slave who is obediently following him on her hands and knees. The room spins around me as I watch him gently stroke her hair, and I clutch a hand to my throat, my lips parted in awe.