Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Domi
“What? No, why can’t we talk together?” Rae’s voice was half angry, half horrified, and Domi started to turn to look behind her, but Mitch’s grip on her arm kept her from being able to spin all the way around.
Master Brian had the door to the Little Girls’ room—the youngest age-playroom in Marquis—open, and Rae was obviously balking.
“You and Domi feed off of each other. I think Master Mitch and I will have better luck getting to the bottom of this if you’re separated.” Master Brian’s voice was firm. “You can safe word, or you can come in.”
“But... Domi...” Rae’s head swung toward her, and Domi could see the conflict in her expression. She hated and loved that room. She wanted Master Brian, but she didn’t want to want him.
“That’s not your safe word,” Master Brian said as he crouched slightly, flipping Rae over his shoulder. Shrieking her outrage, she slapped his back, but she still didn’t say Red.
“I don’t like this room!”
“That’s why it’s a good punishment, little girl.”
As the door shut behind them, the hallway filled with silence.
Domi bit her lower lip and turned her head to look at Master Mitch.
So far, tonight was not going anything like she’d thought it would, and she still didn’t know how to deal with her newly realized feelings for him.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d liked a guy enough to even consider having a relationship.
“In here,” Mitch said, opening the door to the Dungeon.
It was Domi’s favorite room at Marquis, and they both knew it.
Her brow furrowed, trying to figure out what he was thinking but went in obediently.
Moving to the center of the room, she turned to face him but couldn’t quite meet his eyes.
“Do you want to tell me what you and Rae said that had Freddy so riled up?”
Heat filled her cheeks again, and she really couldn’t look at him. “Do I have to, Sir? I realize what I said was shitty, and I regret it.”
“Why don’t you want to tell me?” He walked forward, circling around her, fingers trailed over the back of her bare shoulder, making her jump. Her stomach rolled. Shit. Realizing she like liked him was messing with more than just her head.
“I don’t want you to think less of me, Sir,” she admitted, going for a hard truth. Doms liked hard truths, so if she confessed this one, hopefully, she could avoid worse.
The fingers moving over her skin paused. “All right.”
“Really?” Relief suffused her. That was so much easier than she’d thought it would be. It didn’t make the guilty shame curdling in her stomach go away, but at least she didn’t have to describe to Master Mitch how catty she’d been. “So, um, is that it?”
Smack!
His hand slapped against her ass, hard enough to sting, even through the fabric of her skirt, and Domi jumped in surprise.
“Is that it, Sir,” he corrected. “And no. You don’t have to tell me what you said, but I do feel, as your sometime-Dom, it’s my duty to correct your behavior when you step out of line.”
“That’s really not necessary, Sir,” she said, rushing the words as respectfully as she could. “I promise, I already learned my lesson... and I’d hate to make you miss tonight’s show. I know I don’t want to miss it.”
She also didn’t know if she could handle a scene with him—not without feeling things she shouldn’t.
Unfortunately, the reminder about the fire play demonstration didn’t move him. Master Mitch chuckled, moving around her again until he was in front of her, his eyes roving over the bare skin of her chest as if he was mentally undressing her.
“Then not getting to see the show sounds like a good punishment, doesn’t it?”
One last scene...
That’s what this could be. One last scene to enjoy, then she’d have to cut herself off cold turkey from him. Continuing to have sex with him when she had feelings and he didn’t was a recipe for disaster. Domi’s tongue flicked out, wetting her suddenly dry lips.
“But isn’t that a punishment for you, too, Sir?” After all, he’d come here tonight for the same thing she had.
The smile that spread across his lips matched the wickedly cruel glint in his blue eyes.
“I’m sure I can find a way for you to make it up to me.”
Mitch
He didn’t know what Domi and Rae had done to agitate Freddy but knew it couldn’t be good.
When he’d looked up and seen her standing there, he’d had the excited thought maybe he could watch with her, then he’d realized she and Rae were having a face-off with Freddy.
That had thrown him completely, and he’d immediately gone to see what the problem was.
As much trouble as he had imagining Domi and Rae doing something really wrong, he knew nothing else would get Freddy’s hackles up. If he’d read between the lines correctly, they’d been gossiping—or worse—about another club member.
There were always members who didn’t get along and were encouraged to avoid each other.
Marquis made that easier than Stronghold since everyone was separated by booths, so there was really no reason to interact.
Sometimes, people still said things they shouldn’t, but it was frowned upon.
Freddy, in particular, was protective of the members, and if it was a member he’d taken under his wing... well, double that.
That Domi was still flushed with guilt and didn’t want to admit what she’d said confirmed how bad it must have been.
Mitch was disappointed to miss out on the fire play scene tonight, so he wasn’t kidding about Domi making it up to him.
Since he hadn’t thought he’d get to see her this weekend, in some ways, this was a treat.
She looked gorgeous in a black corset and a tight black skirt that left very little to the imagination, eyes dark with both eyeliner and mascara, and lips painted a vivid red.
He was looking forward to messing up all that carefully applied makeup.
“So...” She squirmed slightly, peeking up at him, looking like a little girl trying to figure out how much trouble she was in—she’d likely kill him if he voiced the comparison. There was a tiny glint of anticipation in her eyes. “Is missing the show my only punishment?”
Aww... Sweet little subbie. Delusional little masochist. Delightful little newbie.
She thought a punishment scene would automatically mean a hard paddling, maybe even the whip, more intense than usual, more painful than usual.
While Mitch’s sadistic side would thoroughly enjoy that, he didn’t need to cause her physical pain to feed that part of himself.
He could get off on fucking with her… period.
“Oh, no, sweetheart,” he said, smiling wickedly. “We’re just getting started.” Her dark eyes lit up with anticipation, and Mitch nearly laughed aloud. She was going to be a lot unhappier when she realized what he had planned. “This way, little subbie.”
Moving her to the deceptively simple wooden table, Mitch helped her with her corset.
Once the laces were loosened, he easily pulled it over her head before running his hands over the red marks it left on her skin, purposefully avoiding her breasts.
Domi let out an appreciative hum as he caressed the marks, relaxing under his touch.
Dropping his hands down to the zipper on her skirt, he peeled the fabric away, shimmying it down and raising his eyebrows when he saw her thong. The pause in undressing her made Domi open her eyes and look at him to see what had happened. Seeing his focus, she shrugged.
“I didn’t know you were going to be here tonight, Sir.”
“Fair enough,” he conceded, enjoying the disappointment that flashed across her face. Even though she would have protested, part of her had been hoping he’d punish her for wearing underwear. Which, of course, was why he didn’t.
This was a punishment scene—a real one. Any enjoyment Domi received from it would be after Mitch was thoroughly assured of her remorse.
Hooking his fingers around her thong, he dragged it down with her skirt, leaving her totally naked, a sight he never got tired of.
With his face right next to her mound, the sweet, musky scent of her arousal filled his nose, tempting him to lean forward and take a lick between her folds... Mitch controlled the impulse.
Starting with something she’d enjoy would send the wrong message.
“Hands behind your head.” He moved back to a standing position so he could loom over her in an appropriately Domly manner. It didn’t require greater height, necessarily, although that helped. Mostly, he stood too close to her, crowding her space and claiming it as his own.
Eyes focused on the center of his chest, Domi’s breath hitched as she lifted her arms. The position pushed her breasts forward, her brownish-pink nipples begging for punishment.
Mitch was going to enjoy this.
Domi
A little confused why she hadn’t immediately been put on the torture table—Mitch’s name for it, not hers, from previous times they’d been in this room—Domi found her anticipation rising.
One of the things she liked so much about scening with Mitch was he was rarely predictable.
Keeping her guessing heightened both her anxiety and excitement about a scene.
She was also relieved to find scening with him didn’t feel any different, just because she’d realized she had a crush on him.
Part of her even wondered if maybe she was wrong about those feelings, but then she imagined him doing this with someone else—anyone else—and the sick, jealous twist in her stomach made it clear her feelings for him had definitely changed.
In the first few months, they’d scened together, she hadn’t cared at all when he’d scened with someone else.
In fact, she’d been kind of relieved to know he was, absolving her of the need to commit.
His hands cupped her breasts, fingers plucking and teasing her nipples as she watched, bringing her back to the present. Domi pushed her emotions, her thoughts about the future, aside. If this was their last scene together, she was damn well going to enjoy it.