Chapter 53
James
I wait on my front steps, taking in the night air, the sky dusted with sparkling diamonds on one side, ribbons of navy blending with pinks and oranges of sunset in the distance on the other.
I lean against my front door frame, sipping a whisky, listening to Isabelle singing ‘Cell Block Tango’ from Chicago, which she informs me is her favourite musical.
The bathroom window above me is open, letting me hear her beautiful, melodic tones as they flutter down to me.
“They had it comin’, They had it comin’… They only had themselves to blame…” she belts out, followed by a curse and clatter of something dropping into the sink.
I laugh and feel an immeasurable amount of happiness fill my chest. My house is anything but quiet now, but it's filled with the best noise. I have someone to sing and play piano with now. The love of my life is next to me when I
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close my eyes, and when I wake up every morning, laughter now fills what used to be a bare shell of a house. As well as Isabelle’s cushions, books, photos, and multiple shoes scattered around.
“I’m coming, I’ll be two minutes!” she shouts down the stairs at me, knowing full well she’ll be at least another ten. I've not even requested the Uber yet.
I turn as she walks down the stairs, and I can't breathe. My heart hammers against my chest, and my cock thickens in my trousers.
“Holy shit!” is all I can say. She is wearing a stunning black satin brocade corset that emphasises her hourglass curves, her full breasts pillowing out at the top, and a matching pencil skirt, her red patent heels extending her long stockinged legs.
She smiles, a slight blush crossing her cheekbones as she brushes a wavy tendril of hair out of her eyes.
Smoky eyeshadow and long lashes frame her rich blue eyes.
And a soft red lipstick sets off her look.
I've seen that lipstick before, and my dick hardens more at the memory of it smeared over my cock.
We are never getting out of the house at this rate. And I’m happy with that if it means I get to fuck her all night. She turns, showing me the back of her outfit, revealing seams running up the backs of her calves. I groan, knowing now what she has on underneath. She hikes up
Yes, Miss
the back hem of her skirt, flashing the lace tops of her stockings and the suspender belt holding them up. And I am dead.
“We don't have to go out, do we?” I whine, knowing there is no way she is cancelling tonight but wishing there was something I could do to convince her to stay in and ride my face all night with those stockings on.
“Down boy!” She laughs and winks at me, coming down the steps to face me. Plucking the glass out of my hand, she drains the last mouthful, holding my gaze the entire time.
I can’t help myself—I know I’ll pay for it later, and it will be torture, but it’ll be worth every second.
Stepping into her, I take the glass back and tip the ice cubes into my mouth, holding them on my tongue as I back her against the hallway wall. Dropping to my knees, I run my hands up her silky stockings, the sheer fabric gliding against my hands as they slip under her skirt.
I look up to see her smirking and tapping away on her phone. I tilt my head in a questioning move, and she says, “Four minutes until the Uber arrives. Do your worst.”
I lift her leg over my shoulder, pushing the ice cubes to the front of my mouth, and pull her thong aside. Her pussy stares back at me, ready for devouring, and I clamp my mouth over those plump pink lips, sliding the ice against her clit.
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She gasps, and her hips twitch to escape, but I grip her tighter and hold her against my mouth as the ice melts to water, and my hot tongue laves her clit and entrance. Her thighs start to quiver as her hands grip my head, holding me in place.
I moan in satisfaction as I slip two fingers in and feel her clenching her tight pussy around them, pulsing with her impending climax as I stroke her insides. I take her clit into my mouth, and she lets out a guttural groan as I suck hard, and she breaks so beautifully.
I sit back on my heels as she runs her fingers through my hair, smoothing it back into place, and her breaths even out. Our eyes lock, and she shakes her head.
“You’re a naughty boy, aren't you? You’ll pay for that; you know that, don't you?”
“I don't doubt it. I'm sure I’ll hate every second.” I smile back sweetly.
She straightens up and smooths her skirt down.
“Brat,” she says simply, as she picks up her bag and walks to the door.
We arrive at the club, the porch lights illuminating the facade in a soft, warm glow. My stomach is in knots at the thought of people seeing us together, being so open at the club with our dynamic, but I also need to remember that
Yes, Miss
these are our people. This is normal to everyone in here— celebrated, in fact.
I have nothing to fear.
I have nothing to fear, because by my side, is my queen. And tonight, I get to proudly show that to her.
“Who let you degenerates leave the house?” comes a stern, recognisable voice. I smile and turn to face Victoria and a man I've never met before. He has his head bowed, he’s dressed in a tailored suit, and doesn't speak.
“We escaped, don't tell anyone!” I reply, laughing, tilting my head at the gentleman to her side in a quizzical look.
“Pet, you may look and introduce yourself to my friends,” she says quietly to the man next to her. His head lifts, and I see a smile on his face, and I get it. He’s happy in that position. Stripped of any need to think or do, just obey and please.
He holds a hand out to me. “I’m Stefan, pleasure to meet you. I've heard all about you both. You make a wonderful couple.” I shake his hand, and he takes Isabelle's and places a gentle kiss upon her knuckles and goes back to his head bowed position next to Victoria.
Isabelle gives Vic a tight hug, and I see Vic say something to her that I can't make out. The club is busy tonight, and lively music plays in the main room as the
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stages get set up for individual scenes by members. Chatter surrounds us, and I take a moment to absorb it all.
Warm sconces line the hallway, plush carpet beneath our feet—the whole vibe is cosy and classy.
Members are dressed in a wide array of outfits, from the woman by the bar in a very feminine floral sundress and heels, to the man clad head to toe in latex, his facial features indistinguishable, knelt at the feet of another woman as she casually chats to her friends.
The bar is busy, and the security man is watchful of everyone's activities, but not in an overbearing way. He is relaxed, approachable, but you can tell he isn't missing a single move by anyone.
A sense of peace and belonging settles over me, as for once I'm here with a purpose, not just muddling through my own feelings, but here to enjoy myself openly. And relief at that tears through me as I look at Isabelle’s smiling face as she chats to Vic.
I feel a gentle tug on my hand as she leads us through the busy crowd to find a table in the far corner, away from the speakers but right in front of a small, intimate circular stage, spotlit from above.
We settle in after Stefan kindly gets the first round of drinks, and Vic gives him permission to talk freely. He leans into me.
Yes, Miss
“They’re something, aren't they?” I turn at his question, following his gaze onto Vic as she sits there in her thigh-high leather boots, leather skirt and corset, draped in small, jewelled chains.
Her long, red nails hold the stem of a wine glass as her other hand waves animatedly as she regales Isabelle with a story.
“How long have you been with Vic?” I ask him, curious as I'd never heard of this man before, but he sure seems smitten by her.
“We met here about six weeks ago, and we've met up a couple of times each week since then. I've travelled to her club a few times, and she comes down here. She’s amazing. All feisty and strong on the outside, but after, she is the most tender being I've ever encountered.”
I nod, knowing how that feels. After a scene, when all the adrenaline and endorphins are crashing though you, the drop can be a shock.
Having Isabelle caring for me, holding me, feeding me after is the most loving, intimate moment.
I can't even describe the feelings to myself.
She's like my parachute, helping me land carefully and softly into pillowy after-sex bliss.
Vic slaps a hand on Isabelle’s knee and stands to leave. “Pet. Come.”
Stefan stands and gives a wave goodbye. “I’ll see you later; that's my cue.” He drops his head, falling into line behind Vic as she marches out of the main room.
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Isabelle moves to sit next to me and rests her head on my shoulder. “She’s moving into my house.”
“I don't understand why. She doesn't live around here,” I ask, confused.
“She really likes Stefan. She's going to work remotely for most of the week and be around here. He can't work remotely, he's a doctor, so she's going to take over my house lease. I like them together; she seems happy with him.”
I smiled, happy for Isabelle that she would have her closest friend nearby again. And anything that makes her happy, makes me happy.
As I take a sip of my beer, she blurts out, “I want you to scene with me tonight on stage.”
I sputter on my mouthful.
Okay, right in there.
Deep end.
I have been asked to jump right in. I'm not adverse to performance—I've done many shows, musicals, dramas, and concerts. I love performing. But this is a different kettle of fish altogether.
“You need some form of punishment for the stunt you pulled before we left, and it’s high time you accepted your
Yes, Miss
position. Do you agree? I've booked this stage, so it's the quietest one, a little more intimate.”