Chapter Twenty-Two
Max
I’ve never been involved with a submissive outside of the club, and any relationships I’ve had have never crossed over into this aspect of my life.
With Sutton, the lines are blurred, but that doesn’t mean I should encourage her to break the rules.
She’s moments away from coming, and as her Dominant—fuck, I love the way that sounds—it is my job to move her to a place where she can chase that feeling without breaking club rules or doing something she might regret later on.
“Come with me,” I say, and she quickly obeys, slipping off the barstool and allowing me to take her by the hand and lead her down the hall, away from the presentation.
And away from prying eyes.
No one gets to see what she looks like when she unravels for me.
Now that she’s mine, her orgasms are as well.
Her pleasure, her pain… all of it mine.
By the time we’ve reached my private quarters within the club, she’s practically floating, loose and pliable. Ready for whatever I have to give.
Unfortunately, as this is our first official night together, what I have to give her are rules, explanations, boundaries, and a whole slew of other technicalities.
As long as I’ve known her, I’ve never seen this woman fully relax. It’s a shame she’s so pent up, even more so that my plans for tonight involve teaching her the ropes, walking her through the rules of my world—not giving her the orgasm she so desperately craves.
Keeping the lighting low and soft, I stay quiet as I follow her, giving her time and space to peruse this room and the attached, my private play room.
She runs her fingers over a few instruments on the wall, then drops her hand and looks back at me over her shoulder with wide, questioning eyes.
“Speak your mind.”
“Can I touch these?”
“Yes.”
She’s a vision, that’s undeniable, and seeing her here, in my private quarters within The Rabbit Hole, is an entirely new aphrodisiac all in itself, but I have to remember that this isn’t Sutton Hart finally agreeing to be my girl.
This is a woman, a submissive, looking for a Dominant.
I will be that for her, but it means keeping my own needs and desires in check.
Keeping my feelings for her separated so I can offer her the control that she so desires.
She reaches up and pulls a leather crop from the wall, then slaps it gently against her other palm.
Fuck me, this might be the hardest relationship I’ll ever have.
“I’ve sponsored you,” I tell her, deciding it's best to just get right to the fine print so I can carry on with the fun part. “This means that you are now a temporary member of this club. But we still need to come to an arrangement of our own.”
“Okay.”
“Would you like to belong to me?”
Her shoulders jump on an intake of breath and I find I’m holding my own breath, waiting for the words I’m suddenly desperate to hear.
“Yes, Dominus.”
Sweet Jesus, it’s more than I ever dared to hope for.
“You want me to be your Dominant, and you would like to explore taking a submissive role with me. Is that correct?”
“Yes, sir.”
I can barely hear past the rush of blood in my ears, but I continue because this is the most important step toward truly making her mine.
“Until we both decide otherwise, you will not attend club events without me. You are not permitted to visit the club if I am not here, unless we’ve discussed such conditions prior, and I’ve given permission for you to do so. ”
She nods as she hangs the crop back up on the wall, then trails her fingertips through the leather strands of a whip.
“Do you understand?”
“Yes,” she says, looking coyly over her shoulder. “Will you use these on me?”
“If that’s what you ask of your Dom.”
Her eyes remain on me for a moment, then she nods and continues perusing.
I take this moment to retreat to my desk and power up my computer. “Were you provided with an activity list, things we might explore together?”
I have everything she filled out tonight in a dedicated folder—each member of the club has their own designated file, accessible only by admin and a few high-ranking staff members.
In this case, because I have sponsored Sutton and she is to be my submissive, I have access to her file.
But though I know she’s completed every form and am currently looking at them on my screen, it’s good practice to confirm these things verbally.
It gets both Doms and subs in the habit of speaking openly.
“Yes.” She turns back to face me, then settles into the seat across the desk from me.
“How are you feeling?”
She smiles, lighting up the room. “Good.”
“Nervous?”
She swallows, then rubs her lips together and gives me a subtle nod.
“Words.”
“Yes. A little.”
I nod. “That’s normal. Listen to your body. We can stop at any time.”
Her eyes widen and I smirk behind my mask.
“I’m not stopping unless you say the word.”
“Okay.” She opens her mouth again, then closes it.
“Speak.”
“Will you ever take off your mask?”
I start to shake my head, then ask, “Is that something you want?”
Fuck. If she says yes, I’m cooked.
Her eyes narrow, then she shakes her head hesitantly.
“Do you like not knowing who I am?”
Her shoulders rise on an unsteady intake of breath, then she nods. “Yes.”
I incline my head, careful not to let my relief show. Returning my attention to the computer in front of me, I pull up Sutton’s intake forms and print out two copies of each document she filled out that is relevant to the power dynamic we are now building together.
Placing one copy of her checklist in front of her, I scan the identical copy slowly.
On the first page, a yes, no, or maybe questionnaire that discusses various areas of kink exploration.
On the second page, a more detailed checklist with a rating system of one through five, with five being the highest rating, something she is eager to try.
Smiling, I take mental note of the multiple five ratings, excited to proceed with her.
“Is there anything on these forms that you would like to discuss? I see you checked maybe on a few of the items.”
She tugs her bottom lip between her teeth as she scans her answers. “Um… what is primal play?” Sutton looks up at me through her eyelashes, and there’s something in that look that tells me she knows exactly what primal play is.
And wants it.
“Primal play is a blanket term, but it could mean wordless, instinctual play, or role playing with a predator/prey dynamic.”
Her eyes widen ever so slightly. Bingo.
“Tell me what intrigues you about what I’ve just said.”
She ducks her head, biting back a smile.
“This is a safe place, darlin’—” I pause when she lifts her head, those brows furrowed.
I’ll have to be more careful about letting my accent slip over into this role.
“You hold all the cards. I can’t help you explore this side of you without your clear and concise consent.
Speak freely so I can give you what you need. ”
Sutton licks her lips. “I read about women being chased, like, through a forest or their home, or…” She shrugs. “I don’t know, is that weird?”
“We don’t use that word here.” Getting an idea, I tilt my head. Sometimes, there’s only one surefire way to get a submissive out of their own way. “Would it help if I began taking control?”
Sutton’s lips part on a gasp. “Yes.”
“Please come here.”
She moves quickly to stand by my side.
I swivel my chair and grip her sides, allowing myself a moment of indulgence as I run my hands up and down her hips. Opening the large bottom drawer on the left side of my desk, I retrieve a small cushion and place it at her feet. “I’d like to see you on your knees. Right here.”
She hesitates only briefly, then lowers to the ground.
And Jesus fucking Christ, it’s a sight to behold.
Sutton Hart on her knees is better than I’ve ever imagined.
My throat is thick, and it takes a minute for me to be able to move. Or speak.
I cup her cheek and lift her face so I can look at her.
“Incredible.” Retrieving the checklist I printed, I position myself with one knee on either side of Sutton, and begin reading aloud the items on the list that she listed as a five, which means the highest desire to try them.
As I rattle them off, I watch her face for each subtle reaction.
Sutton’s tells have always been evident to me, obvious, but it’s important that I truly understand the depths of her desires if we’re going to proceed.
“Asphyxiation.”
Her nostrils flare, but there’s a slight crease in her brow.
“Hm. You marked this as a five, but perhaps it should be a four?”
She licks her lips, eyes tightening at the edges.
“Three?”
She nods. “I just…” She considers her words and I wait with bated breath. “I don’t want to be strangled, but I like your hand on my throat.”
She’s going to be the death of me, isn’t she?
“Do you…” She closes her eyes. “Do you like that too?”
“This isn’t about me.”
Sutton’s shoulders fall and I reach down to cup her cheek again, bringing her back to me. “Yes, I like that very much.”
She instantly perks up, so I make a mental note to remember that my favorite ball-buster likes praise.
Her chest rises and falls on a deep breath, then she nods. “Okay.”
“Okay.” I drag my thumb over her bottom lip, thinking back to that time in the bathroom, and as if she’s following my thoughts, she lets her mouth fall open.
I dip my thumb inside, rubbing it over her tongue. Her eyes flutter as she closes her mouth around me and sucks.
“Christ,” I curse under my breath. If she keeps this up, we’ll never get through the list. I pull my thumb out and her mouth makes a little pop sound that goes right to my aching cock.
“We’ll add breath control to the list, with asphyxiation lower on the scale, but everything is negotiable. For now, I think I’d like to see how you handle light air restriction.”
“Okay.”