Chapter 14
Chapter Fourteen
After showering that night, Ray left the ensuite bathroom with only a towel around her.
Drake was lounging in the easy chair by the window, and his gaze was warm enough to flush her skin. “Very pretty.”
She was probably turning red from her toes up to her face—and almost all of it would be visible. “Um, you said you would choose what I wore tonight?” Why wasn’t there any clothing laid out on the bed?
His lips curved. “Such a worried expression. I won’t insist you be naked or only in a G-string.”
Whew, okay then. But still… What was she going to wear? “The convention packet suggested roleplay costumes for the first dungeon night. To break the ice or something.”
“Exactly so, and since Chains is a sponsor, you’ll be one of the examples.” He pointed at a sack on the dresser. “While you get ready, I have some calls to answer.” Sauntering out of the bedroom, he closed the door behind him.
She stared at the sack. So very small. Whatever clothing was in there would be…skimpy.
The first thing she pulled out was very sheer…a black dress? It had white lace on the top and bottom. Ooookay. Then there was a white square with white ribbon ties. Perhaps an apron?
The small, white headpiece nailed it. “Oh, you did not!” Her French master got her a French maid outfit.
Laughter started in her belly and erupted. If she’d thought of it, she’d have bought one herself.
She pulled it on and checked the mirror. Oh niiiiice!
The stretchy, off-the-shoulder top meant she couldn’t wear a bra. Midriff stitching drew in the bodice to showcase her breasts. Despite being black, the fabric was so sheer her darker nipples showed against her pale skin.
Even worse, the hemline barely covered her crotch in front, and in the rear, it completely opened in a V to display all of her ass. The bright white ruffle on the barely-there black panty would ensure no one missed her butt being exposed.
Well. No jewelry needed for a maid. Her shoulder-length, curly hair might as well stay down.
She took her makeup bag into the bathroom and kicked the door shut. For tonight, she went for dark and sultry eyes. Then a soft-pink lip stain topped with cherry-flavored gloss. Just cuz.
And that was it. She never wore foundation or blush; it felt too weird if her freckles disappeared. Stupid Irish ancestors.
Huh. She started grinning, imagining getting arrested by the Gardaí. “For shame, Miss. Being as you’re Irish, wearing a French maid outfit is against the law. To gaol with you.”
Ack. Stop! She shook the scampering squirrels out of her head and left the bathroom. And stopped.
Drake stood in the center of the bedroom in black dress pants and an unbuttoned, white silk shirt.
Oh mama, he is so fine. Unable to resist, she ran her fingers over the hard ridges of his abdomen. Yum. “For a businessman, you’re sure fit.”
“I work out, ma chérie, or I’d possess a fine beer belly.” He turned her to face the mirror and moved behind her. His gaze in the mirror held open heat. “You are lovely…and I am tempted to take you, here and now.”
Reaching around her, he cupped her breasts in his strong hands, thumbing her nipples and sending zings of pleasure straight to her pussy. His thick erection pressed against her barely clad ass. “But I will wait. For a while.”
She swallowed hard. Wanting him to just take her. To heck with the dungeon.
“But first, some warming up, oui?” Without moving away, he reached around her to pick something up from the desk. He slid it inside the front of her frilly panty. A black magnet on the outside secured it in place. Right over her clit.
A vibrator—it had to be a vibrator. “Drake…”
One hand pressed it against her mound, the other fondled her breast, and his shaft was still against her ass. The whole room grew warmer.
He kissed her neck and pocketed the remote. “The toy is simply to ensure you have an enjoyable evening.” In the mirror, his black eyes danced with laughter, the jerk.
Enjoyable? Yet the thought of him turning on the device when they were in public, of him being in control of what she felt, sent a thrill through her.
She swallowed hard. What was she letting herself in for? “Are—are Simon and Rona going with us?”
“Non, they’re going out with friends tonight but will join us in the dungeon tomorrow night.
” He put his arm around her waist, his other hand caressing her breasts.
“Yesterday, you told me what you wanted to try this weekend. That, aside from your restrictions on the list—no water sports, no blood play, etc., you wanted to hand over control of your body to me. I can touch or take you at any time, restrain you, punish you. Is this what you want?”
The melting sensation grew inside her. She nodded, and when he didn’t continue, managed to force out the words, “Yes, it’s what I want.”
“Then so it will be. Since you are dressed as a powerless maid, I will treat you as one. Bear in mind”— his lips quirked—“I already know you don’t mind being watched.”
She could feel herself stiffen. At the party, it had started with them watching and then—
“Bébé, I am the only one who will touch you. No one else. Others may watch. Watch only.”
Her muscles relaxed, then she frowned, remembering his ex was here. “No one else will touch me. But…um, does it go both ways? You won’t, um, be with other women?”
He pursed his lips in that way he had, taking her seriously. And made her fall even harder in love with him. “Agreed. As it happens, I prefer only one sexual partner—and prefer my partner agrees to the same.”
She let out a breath. “Yes!”—and winced, modulating the volume. “Sorry, but yes.” Only he wasn’t angry or upset with her vehemence. Was actually amused.
“Very good. Now, some power exchanges remove the ability to use safewords. I am not comfortable with that. Your safeword can always be used and will be honored.”
She relaxed back into him. “Yes. Yes, I trust you.”
“I am honored”—he kissed her neck—“and will do my best to deserve it.”
Drake nodded to the two volunteer security personnel who were checking badges carefully as well as warning others about phone and camera restrictions. “Good job, Shawn,” he told the one from Chains. The other guard was from another club.
“Thank you, Master Drake. Enjoy your evening.” Shawn smiled even as he gave Ray an appreciative look.
As he should.
In her red, calf-length, wrap-around dress, she looked lovely. It was a shame to cover up the French maid costume, but street attire was mandatory outside of the screened convention area.
He smiled and ran a finger down her soft cheek, appreciating skin free of sticky face makeup. She had however, lined and shadowed her eyes. And those glossy lips would look perfect around his cock.
Once past the screens, he stopped. “We’re now on convention ground. No need for covering up in here.” He undid the fabric belt and slipped the dress off her shoulders. It rolled up easily and went into his toybag.
The air was cooler than in the hotel room, and beneath the very sheer black top, her nipples were visibly pointed.
He grinned, enjoying the sight. “You make a most adorable maid.”
“Thank you.” Then she followed his gaze, looking down at herself.
Ah, so delightful. He would never tire of watching how blushes rolled upward from her breasts to her face.
“Now, while behind the screen tonight—and actually, anytime we are in a dungeon, I expect medium protocol toward me and other Dominants. Be very respectful, don’t speak unless spoken to, use honorifics, eyes down. We’ve talked about this before.”
Her tongue wet her lips. “Yes, Sir. I understand.”
“I know you’ll make me proud.” He caressed her cheek, and she leaned into his palm. Giving him her unspoken submission.
A power exchange sounded so neutral, so cold for the trust and affection in a D/s relationship like they were coming to have.
After picking up the toybag, he smoothed his suit coat. He’d dressed as an aristocrat to set off her maid costume. Since he wasn’t planning anything strenuous, his classic black dinner suit and vest, white dress shirt, silk tie, and pocket square would do.
Tonight he wanted only to give her a psychological taste of power dynamics.
“Perhaps a quick look inside the dungeon, then we’ll come back out here.”
“Yes, Sir.”
As he guided her into the hotel’s biggest ballroom, her eyes widened. Twenty thousand square feet of dungeon was impressive, and he stepped to one side of the doorway to let her take it in.
“Hooooly cryptids.”
He couldn’t help grinning at the phrase. “Someone watches too much Lovecraftian horror.”
She was right though. The volunteers for the setup had done a magnificent job.
St. Andrew’s crosses stood high among suspension stations, cages, spanking benches, and slings.
One of the clubs had sent a GYN table so one corner was set up as a medical room.
The far wall was roped off for whipping and flogging scenes.
He bent to murmur in Ray’s ear. “Tomorrow, we’ll be in here. I’ll even let you choose which equipment we’ll start on.”
The tiny tremor he could feel with his arm around her waist was pleasing. All tomorrow, she’d be thinking about what was to come. Anticipation was good for a submissive.
For tonight though…
The pre-function areas surrounding the ballroom were for socializing and dungeon foreplay, so to speak. Signs pointed to other rooms for aftercare where experienced volunteers were available to help in case of post-scene meltdowns.
“Drake.” Alex was seated near the center of the area. “Join us.” He and Bob had their submissives kneeling at their feet. Not surprising. Bob enjoyed ratcheting up the D/s dynamic during play periods.
This was perfect for tonight.
Drake settled into a comfortable leather chair and squeezed Ray’s hand. “Please join the submissives in kneeling, ma chérie.” He pointed to a place on the floor between his legs.