“Come on, slave girl,” he gasped. “I can feel it—you’re almost there. No one can resist Master Gene. Come for me. I order you to come.” He swiveled and thrust, urgency radiating from him like heat. “Do it. Now.”
Give him what he wants. You can do it. Meg Ryan has nothing on you.
Allie moaned and arched her hips upward. She began to pant. “Oh, oh, oh, oh! Yes, yes, yes!” She shuddered and stiffened, gripping him hard with her thighs. She squinted through slitted eyelids to peer at his face looming over hers. His eyes were squeezed shut, his head thrown back, the tendons on his neck distended as he hammered her into the mattress. She continued to sigh and moan in syncopated rhythm to his orgasmic cries.
Finally he lay still, the steady beat of his heart against hers the only sign of life. He was heavy and limp on top of her. The tip of Allie’s nose was itchy and her right calf was cramping. She longed to shove him off her. She wished fervently the ropes around her now chafed wrists would miraculously evaporate. She desperately needed a shower and a cold drink, preferably something eighty proof.
Allie closed her eyes and uttered a small, silent wish: disappear.
It didn’t work.
Finally he lifted himself on his elbows and peered down into her face. “Hey, you. You alive? I told you I’d make you come. Master Gene knows how to treat a sub girl, huh?” He grinned, the pride evident on his handsome face.
Allie smiled back and sighed, letting him interpret the sound as she knew he would. “Oh, yeah,” she breathed. “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome, sub girl.”
“Come on. I don’t want to go alone. It’s a really cool new private dungeon in Newton and the party starts at nine. You know I don’t like to drive at night.”
“Newton? I didn’t know they went in for things like that in the suburbs.”
“Hey, Boston doesn’t have a monopoly on BDSM, just because you never like to leave the city,” Lauren retorted, though she was grinning. “It’ll be fun. You could invite that guy you met at that munch thing, what was his name? He was a real hunk. Reminded me of Justin Timberlake. Total masturbatory material.” Without giving Allie a chance to reply, Lauren continued in her rapid patter, “It’s half price cover for single women, and I heard this dungeon has super high tech, state-of-the-art equipment. Yeah, it’s kind of a haul, but my car gets great gas mileage. I’ll even pay your cover if you’re short on funds. Please? Please say yes. I don’t want to go alone.” Lauren leaned forward eagerly, her expression comically beseeching.
The waitress came by with their salads and glasses of wine. Allie waited until she’d served them and moved away. “That hunk you referred to is named Gene. We’ve been talking all week on Facebook. He does have experience in the scene and as far as I could tell wasn’t secretly married or gay or anything. We actually hooked up last night.”
“Last night? Oh my god, Allie! O-M-fucking-G! You hooked up? Where? Your place? His? A hotel? And you didn’t even tell me? Was it fabulous? Was he hot? Did he look as good naked as he did in black leather? Why didn’t you call me immediately?”
Allie laughed, at once exasperated and amused by her best friend. She finished chewing a mouthful of salad, took a sip of her wine and then replied. “I didn’t tell you yet because you haven’t stopped talking since we sat down. He came to my place. He was good, as far as it went.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning he was very good, technically speaking, with the ropes and the flogger, but it was pretty clear for him it was all just foreplay. Like he had a check list of things to do to me so that he could fuck me at the end.” Allie held up her hand, using an invisible pen to make checkmarks in the air. “Tie her up? Check. Apply the nipple clamps? Check. Say sexy, dominant things that will get her wet? Check. Smack her ass a bit? Check. Bring out the big scary flogger? Check.”
Lauren laughed out loud, and Allie, in spite of herself, joined in.
“I’m sorry. I’m being really mean. The guy was perfectly nice. There just wasn’t that connection, you know? That spark.”
Lauren nodded supportively, reminding Allie why she was her best friend.
Allie took another long swallow of her wine and continued, “He was into me, but I kind of got the feeling he was into the idea of me, more than me, if you know what I mean? He was The Dom and I was The Sub and we were Doing a Scene. I was an extension of him, of his ego, of Master Gene, Dom extraordinaire.” Allie lowered her voice as she said Master Gene, drawing quotations around the words with her fingers.
Lauren giggled and then sighed. “Sounds depressingly familiar.”
Allie shrugged. “At least he was good eye candy while he performed his masterful repertoire. He’s definitely got a killer bod. He has a complex workout regime that I got to hear about in excruciating detail.”
Lauren wrinkled her nose in sympathy. “The really hot ones can be a little too into themselves, right? But if he’s a real Dom, you can overlook it. I mean”—she hugged herself and closed her eyes, her expression wistful—”I’d give anything to meet Mister Right. I mean Master Right.”
She opened her eyes, her expression once more earnestly beseeching. “That’s why I want to go to this play party tomorrow night. Martin Haller is going to be there. I heard through the grapevine he broke up with that Lisa chick, and I’ll be there, ready and willing to be his rebound sub girl. You should definitely go. You never know, your Master Right could be there, too, waiting to sweep you off your feet and into his dungeon.”
“Oh, right,” Allie said, letting sarcasm drip through her words. “Like Master Right is really going to be waiting for me at a private dungeon in Newton, Massachusetts. I probably have a better chance to win the lottery.”
It was Lauren’s turn to shrug. “Hey, you know what they say. You gotta be in it to win it.”
Allie blew out a sigh of defeat, though she couldn’t help but smile at her friend. “Okay, okay, Lauren. I’ll go with you.”
Allie sat at the juice bar of Spanked, already wishing she hadn’t come. She knew she was sending off leave me alone vibes, which had to be why no one had approached her in the half hour or so she’d been brooding at the bar.
Lauren, of course, had immediately gravitated to Martin Haller, whom she’d spotted the moment they’d entered the party. She was now happily ensconced in a private scene room with the guy, no doubt having a blast. Allie envied Lauren, who seemed to sail happily from relationship to relationship, always remaining good friends with prior lovers when she invariably broke up with them.
When Allie had first discovered BDSM in her early twenties, she had been excited to explore the passion of erotic submission. At first she’d been certain she’d finally found that missing link—the thing that would allow her to truly connect with another human being. And while she’d come to crave the intensity and release of erotic suffering and submissive sex, the thick wall of ice around her heart had never fully thawed. Secretly she worried she was broken—incapable of love, destined to remain alone.
“Can I buy you a drink?”
Allie looked up to see a guy of around fifty with a craggy face and deep-set, very blue eyes. He was dressed in the requisite black leather vest and pants, a rather unattractive bulge of fat showing below the vest, which wasn’t quite long enough or large enough to hide it. Even though it was a size too small, Allie recognized the quality of the leather and the workmanship. The heavy, gold watch on his wrist probably cost more than she earned in a month.