Chapter 4
miss me?
Madame Xyla
Cassius didn’t do anything wrong. That was on me.
I’ve avoided him because of my actions that day.
Him earning the right to come is expected, me using him to come is not.
I strongly believe that if I hadn’t lost control, he wouldn’t have.
Everything about Cassius sets off alarms in my head, and I can’t determine if that’s a good or bad thing.
Everything made perfect sense until he came along. A part of me is happy he’s here, though I’m not looking forward to this conversation. I am looking forward to teasing him and the longer I wear this plug, the more anxious I’ve become.
I wouldn’t lose my job if I slept with a client. That’s just my rule of thumb. I have indulged with club members, just not my clients.
What goes on in my sessions remains confidential, but if anyone would understand, it’s Lila. She’s one of the owners and doesn’t let that stop her from getting her freak on. Whenever she actually leaves her damn office, anyway.
I’m thankful for the distraction when my phone buzzes in my hand. I unlock it to find a message from Lila.
Lila:
Mr. V is getting settled in your room.
There’s a drink at the bar waiting for him.
Head in whenever you’re ready.
Me:
Thanks! I’ll grab it and be on my way.
Lila:
Good luck. He seems stressed about something.
Me:
That’s his usual state. I’ve got him though!
Lila:
If anybody can help him, it’s you. Lol
Me:
Don’t I know it? Lol
My mind flits back to when Cassius stepped into the lounge and requested me a year ago. His anxiousness was on full display as he bounced on the balls of his feet, pacing the waiting room while clutching a business card for dear life. My business card.
Before I could ask where he got it, he blurted which client gave him the glowing recommendation that led him here.
It reminded me of a child who’s been caught doing something they shouldn’t.
So quick to blame someone else out of fear of punishment.
I knew then I had my work cut out for me, if he ended up coming back.
Cassius wanted a Madame because he was curious, but skeptical of whether or not he could be submissive. He was open-minded, then had a bit of a crisis when he discovered just how much he was into it. Since I love nothing more than to bring men like him to their knees, I gladly accepted.
Hypermasculinity and hyperindependence gets in the way of people giving in to their needs. Once we encounter someone that makes us feel safe to explore our deepest desires, there isn’t much we aren’t willing to do.
Cassius is patient, eager to learn, and very anxious. Also very determined to make me laugh. He hasn’t had a domme before, and it shows. He’s bratty—and that usually turns me off—but he manages to test those boundaries in a way that keeps things interesting, like today.
I grab Cass’s drink from the bar, smirking to myself as I consider how he’ll handle his punishment as my heels click closer to my room. It’s possible that he may accept it or opt out. He’s allowed to say no and never does, but today could be that day.
Or he could tell me he’d like to see a new domme. I hope not. I’ve worked hard to train him and don’t like the thought of someone else benefitting from my hard work.
As much as I’d like to believe that Cass wouldn’t resort to such drastic measures, he will do anything to avoid opening up.
Like running out on my aftercare, for example.
Which is his favorite pastime—his words, not mine.
All because he was a little vulnerable in the moment.
Which sounds very familiar. I suppose I’m one to talk, aren’t I?
Maybe we are quite the avoidant pair. That doesn’t sound like a recipe for disaster at all, I think.
I raise my free hand, knock twice on my door, then tug on the satin belt to loosen my robe, revealing my lingerie set.
I fetch my key card out of my pocket with my free hand and wave it over the sensor until it beeps. I knock twice on the door before twisting the knob, and take a deep breath as I enter.
His cologne fills the space, reminding me of the last time I was close enough to breathe it in.
He’s sharply dressed as usual, manspreading in his favorite chair, tapping his thick fingers on the leather armrests.
A telltale sign that he’s anxious. Whether he’s anxious to fuck or fire me, I don’t know.
There’s no telling how this is going to go or if this plug in my ass will go to waste.
That would be such a shame and a waste of a damn good orgasm.
“Somebody missed me,” I say as I shut the door behind me.
Let’s see what curveball he throws today.