Page 6 of Lies You Told
When I booked in this morning, one of the Dom's I liked to play with matched with me. Some of the other girls are chatting and laughing with each other in the corner. I miss that. Not that I've ever been a girly girl. Franchesca is as close as I get, but we don't hang out like we used to.
I have no work friends. People either see me as the boss or as competition, or they stand clear. My nickname is on the tip of their lips and in their thoughts. Most of the time, I'm okay with that.
I notice one of the girls keeps looking over at me. She screams cheerleader, blonde and bubbly, and she has the other girls eating out of the palm of her hand. I hear she’s engaged to a billionaire. Millionaires and billionaires are what this club is made of. My client list helped me get into this club, including a couple of the members here. Of course, bonuses and billable hours are another reason for my promotion–I can easily afford this lifestyle. The Park Avenue apartment with a view of Central Park and the kind of designer wardrobe I only dreamed of owning when I was a teen praying on scholarships to get me to where I am today.
The blonde looks over at me again, and I try to ignore her as I pull my hair up in a high ponytail. Shutting my locker, I head towards the door at the back of the room. I’m happy to see him waiting for me outside the door. He commands any space he takes over. He’s well over six feet and knows how to pull off a pair of leather pants, and he’s also the most popular Dom here.
He walks down the corridor, and as usual, he stops. This is my cue. I lower myself to the floor. Head down, palms face-down on my naked thighs. I’m turned on, and he hasn’t even spoken or touched me yet. My pussy lips flutter, and it takes everything in my power not to try to alleviate the need I have. I can feel my nipples pebbling under my corset. The breast sections are made from lace, and I’m sure my nipples are peeking through the material. They have a small button that can be unfastened to expose the breasts when the Dom in question decides to play with them.
I see his feet come into view as his fingers lift my chin to look at him.
“Good girl Chloe.” He says with a bit of his Irish accent; he's not been able to lose fully.
I love it when he praises me.
I hold myself back. Fighting the urge to look him in the eyes. His eyes melt me every time.
“Stand and follow me.”
I follow his instructions, but I keep my eyes lowered. It's the only time I allow any of these guys to see me submissive. I feel some eyes on me as we walk down the three steps before walking past the bar area, through the public play area, and down another small corridor. I specifically asked for a private room tonight. I need him to make me feel something–I don't need to socialize tonight. That's not what this is. I need the privacy of being able to let go.
With my eyes lowered, I’m getting a really good view of his ass–his second-best asset.
“Take off your clothes, then come here.” I follow his instructions straight away. I’m not a brat. I thrive on being the best at everything, this included.
I unfasten the corset. Slowly, I peel it off my body, then fold it neatly and place it on the table before pulling down my lace panties and putting them on top. Like I know he likes.
I watch as he pulls out the wooden bench from the side of the room, the muscles in his arms the type of arm porn girls love. He holds his hand out to me, and I hold it, his grip firm. He guides me over the bench as I rest on the front of my body on the padding. I really fucking need this. I need the pain. I need to let go and release this pent-up feeling I’ve had since I found out Jaxson was in my city.
I hear him walk away, his boots on the hardwood floor, and I know he’s walking toward the enormous chest on the far side of the room. I’ve been in this room numerous times. I like the public playroom, but tonight I just needed… this.
My sex clenches in anticipation as I hear his steps getting nearer.
I hear the swoosh of the leather before I feel it on my right thigh. I love the leather riding crop. My skin heats up, and I barely have time to process the second time it hits me, this time on my left butt cheek. It feels amazing. My body is heating up, and I can feel. It makes me feel alive.
He continues to hit me with the flogger, the heat and sting giving me exactly what I need. My sex is throbbing, and I need some kind of friction. If I move my hips–just a little–I’m sure I could get myself off. But I don’t. Why? Because I wouldn’t feel like I’d earned that orgasm. It wouldn’t be as good as letting Kieran push me over the edge. He hits me again, twelve. He’s always refused to push me past fifteen. He hits me again on my right butt cheek, never hitting me in the same spot twice. I know my body must look a lovely mixture of pinks and reds. Fourteen, he hits me everywhere but the one place I want him to. Until… fifteen. I feel the leather as it slaps against my pussy. I know he can see how wet I am. I can feel my arousal pooling, and I’m guessing some is now on the riding crop that just hit my pussy. Sometimes I need to feel the bites and the pain. Sometimes I need my whole body to be given the okay to burst and break free. Today is one of those days. I hadn’t intended to let him make me cum. But I need the release as much as I've needed the pain tonight. Kieran knows that. He always knows just what I need.
He drops the riding crop on the floor as he runs his hand–petting me almost–as I feel the heat inside me warm my whole body. His hand slowly travels up my spine, but I’m so relaxed right now.
“Do you want me to make you cum?” He asks, checking in with me.
I can’t find the words; I just nod my head. “Words, Chloe. I need to hear you say it.”
“I need to cum,” I say.
“Good!”
I hear the zipper on his leather pants before they drop to the floor. I’m so needy.
“So wet,” he whispers in my ear as he pushes his rock-hard cock into my soaked opening from behind.
It’s been too long since I’ve let him claim me like this. I usually wait until I get home to get myself off, but tonight I need this. His body covers my back as he fucks me with a purpose. He bites down on my shoulder, though not as hard as I’d like. It won’t even leave a mark.
“Come for me, Chloe. Let go.”
The shower I had at the club is nothing like the relaxing bath I’m in now in the comfort of my own apartment. The bubbles smell amazing–lavender–as I take a deep breath, eyes closed, my head resting against the edge. I love my bath. It’s my happy place and the only time I refuse to have my phone in hand–here and at the club. If I don’t have my phone, nobody can disturb me here.
I open my eyes as I reach for the glass of wine I have perched on the tiled edge of the bath, taking a sip before placing it back on the side.
