Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Camille
Determined not to show her nerves, Camille waited for Freddy’s answer. He was a handsome man, tall and fair, with blond hair and blue eyes. His shoulders filled out the bright blue button-down shirt he was wearing, which matched his eyes exactly, making them appear almost electric.
Had she chosen him just because Julie had insisted she wouldn’t pick Olivia’s recommendation?
Maybe a little.
She’d also been intrigued by the way he’d lit up when he’d realized the man he was standing next to at midnight was going to be claimed by a Dom.
Olivia had mentioned that Freddy was bisexual but tended to date women, and it had seemed like maybe he was couple-y with the other man, right until the Dom had come along and swept the other man away, leaving Freddy looking both happy and envious.
It was the happy that had drawn her in from a few feet away, where she’d been seriously contemplating going to bed on her own, without approaching any of the men who had been pointed out to her.
The happy now showed through as a slow smile spread over his lips, his eyes glowing from within.
“I would be happy to help you, Mistress Camille.” Despite his words, he didn’t move forward, waiting for her to make the next move.
Relief, anxiety, and arousal rose up inside her. Damn, but it had been a long time since she’d had a man who was willing to wait for her, one who didn’t try to push his own agenda or desires. At the same time, it was a reminder that it had been a really long time since she’d taken control of a man.
Hell, it had been a really long time since she’d had the opportunity.
Stepping forward to bring them closer, she reached up to grip the top of his shirt, right at the front where the collar met, and gently tugged him down.
He wasn’t much taller than her, just enough that she had to tip her head back a bit, despite her heels.
He came willingly, eagerly, and it felt as though something was blossoming inside her.
Some part of her had been dormant, hibernating during a long winter, and was finally seeing the sun…
the need, the yearning, burst forth. Pressing one hand against his chest, she moved it up to his shoulder, using her other hand to pull him even deeper into the kiss.
His hands came to rest on her hips, present but undemanding.
Her inner muscles clenched so hard, it almost felt like a cramp.
It wasn’t just that he was a good kisser—he was—it was the way he let her take the lead.
She moved, he followed.
Yes, every inch of her body screamed. This. This is what I’ve been missing. This is what I’ve been aching for.
When she pulled her lips away, he followed for a moment, then straightened again, his hands dropping away from her hips.
There was something about the way he stood that gave the impression of active waiting, not passively standing.
No, he was too focused on her. Too ready to leap into action to be called passive.
But he was waiting.
She studied his expression, wondering if she was about to make a really good or a really bad decision. It had been a long time since she’d scened. Scening didn’t necessarily mean sex, and sex didn’t necessarily mean emotions. This didn’t have to be complicated.
They could start off the new year with a bang, then see what happened from there.
“Is there anything else I can help you with, Mistress?” he asked, his voice husky, his gaze fixed on her lips.
It felt good to feel wanted. Desired. She was starting to realize it hadn’t just been her kinky side she’d shut down.
It had been her whole self as a sexual woman.
She’d been through the longest dry spell of her life.
She spent all of her time doing things for other people, most of whom didn’t appreciate how hard she worked for them.
The only one who did appreciate it was her mom, and only when her mom was having a good day.
Would it be the worst thing to have a night completely for herself? That was what Julie had intended when she’d set this up. Camille just hadn’t believed it would actually pan out.
But here was a handsome, eager man ready and willing to submit to her. From everything Julie and her friends said, he was an experienced submissive. One who wasn’t out of practice, like she was. Which should actually make everything easier.
“I have a room,” she said. Somehow her voice came out cool, calm, and collected. Some of the unruly emotions inside her settled when she realized she’d made a decision. “If you don’t have any plans for the rest of the evening, I do believe I could use some help getting out of this dress.”
She could have managed on her own, with a lot of undignified wriggling, but having help would be a lot more efficient.
And fun.
Freddy’s eyes lit up again, his smile brightening.
“Yes, Mistress.”
Freddy
Following Mistress Camille back to the overnight rooms, Freddy tried not to look too much like an eager puppy. He felt like one but didn’t want to come on too strong. It would be all too easy to fall at her feet and worship her like the goddess she was, but she hadn’t asked him to. Yet.
He really hoped she would.
There was a slightly nervous air about her, which might have worried him if he hadn’t happened to look over at Mistresses Olivia and Julie on his way out of the party.
Both of them had grinned and given him a thumbs-up.
Well, Mistress Olivia had grinned. Mistress Julie had smiled, but for her that was like grinning.
Mistress Camille took him to the Dungeon Room.
He walked in after her, a willing sacrifice.
One-night stands weren’t often his thing, but since this was his first time meeting her, if things went well, he could always hope for more than a single night.
He was wearing his favorite shirt and a pair of slacks, so if she let him stay the whole night, he’d be able to leave tomorrow morning without looking out of place.
The fact that he was already thinking about staying the night was exceptionally unusual, but so was the attraction he’d felt flare to life between them. He hadn’t had this kind of immediate spark with anyone in years. Chemistry couldn’t be controlled.
“Sit down,” Mistress Camille said, gesturing to the spanking bench in the center of the room. It was the only place to sit other than the Queening Throne against the wall. “Let’s have a talk before we get started.”
If he hadn’t already seen Mistress Olivia’s and Julie’s approval, that would have set him right at ease. Clearly Mistress Camille was not only experienced, she was a conscientious Domme. Freddy relaxed further as he sat on the bench, facing her while she moved into the space.
Rather than seating herself on the throne, she leaned against the frame set up not far from the bench, which was closer to him than the throne would have been. Clear brown eyes examined him thoughtfully, her expression neutral, and he couldn’t help but wonder if she was having second thoughts.
He hoped not.
If she did, he’d leave now, then see if he could talk Julie into bringing her to Stronghold or Marquis on another night. One when he was free.
“It’s been a while since I’ve scened,” she admitted after a moment, releasing some of the tension in his shoulders with the explanation for her hesitation.
“It’s also been a while since I’ve… well…
I don’t usually move this quickly, but Julie was kind enough to secure me a room for tonight.
I wasn’t going to use it until I saw you. ”
That was flattering. Freddy smiled encouragingly, waiting to see if she had more to say. Not only because she was the Domme, but because he’d learned sometimes people would say more to fill a silence than they would to answer a direct question.
She ran her hand up and down the frame.
“I’m not a hardcore sadist,” she said after a moment, meeting his gaze. “I prefer domination, bondage, and sensation play to pain play. I do like a bit of pain play, but the main thing is knowing I’m the one in control. How does that match up with your needs?”
“Pretty well, Mistress,” Freddy replied easily.
Unlike her, it hadn’t been a while since he’d last scened, and he had his introduction spiel down pat.
It had been a while since he’d had sex, but he wasn’t sure that was on the table tonight, though he could always live in hope.
“I’m a service sub, I prefer sensation play, though I’m a bit of a masochist, but I don’t do anything hardcore.
When I first scene with someone, I request a lighter introduction, so they can get used to my pain tolerance. ”
That had happened after he’d had a few too many Tops—mostly the men, though there had been one woman—try to go straight into the rougher stuff.
A bit of genital torture, once he was deep in a scene, was one thing, but that was not a starting point for him.
Anyone who balked at the request was someone he didn’t play with.
Not something he needed to worry about with Mistress Camille. She smiled, and he thought he detected a bit of relief on her face.
“That’s fine, Freddy. Like I said, it’s been a while for me, and I plan to ease my way back into things. Do you have any favorite implements, positions, toys…”
Freddy brightened even more. It wasn’t a requirement that a Dominant ask such a question, but it made him think even more highly of her than he already did.
Not asking didn’t make a Dom a bad Top, but asking was an indication of a good one.
This was going to be a good night. It didn’t matter that she had been out of the scene for a while.
She clearly knew what she was doing, and he was going to have no trouble giving himself over into her care.
“Floggers, the thuddy ones, are always a favorite. On the edgier side, I enjoy wax play and some breath play. For toys, cock rings, plugs, or wands. When I’m deep in a scene, occasional cock-and-ball torture, though no stomping or crushing.
” That was one of his hard limits. “And for a good sensation play scene, blindfolds are a particular favorite.” He loved not knowing what was coming, being completely controlled and completely in the dark, every touch, every sensation a new surprise and delight.
Some of his preferences had made it hard for him to find a relationship in the past. There were a lot of stereotypes around what submissive men wanted, and some of them were stereotypes for a reason.
Freddy had found that a lot of the assumed molds didn’t fit him.
He didn’t want anyone to stomp on his balls.
He didn’t mind crawling, but it wasn’t a turn-on for him, and he didn’t become aroused from insults or humiliation.
He'd eventually accepted that about himself after years in the community, but at first, he’d struggled with feeling like an imposter because he wasn’t hardcore.
Funny enough, that had led to him being seen as something of a mentor by the other submissives as they went on their own journeys of kinky self-discovery.
Mistress Camille nodded thoughtfully.
“Then let’s get started, unless you have any objection?”
Freddy immediately shook his head. His excitement and anticipation jumped, happiness billowing through him.
“Good. Strip for me, then fold your clothes and put them next to the door to the bedroom. I’m going to find some toys to play with.” With that order given, she smiled beatifically at him and turned, heading for one of the cabinets.
Grinning, Freddy got to his feet.
Tonight was turning out to be so much more than he would have ever hoped it could be.