☼  Sasha  ☼

Peering into the mirror I set my hands on my hips and moved from side to side. And I give a fleeting thought to whether or not the silver sequin short sheath dress was appropriate for tonight's little adventure.

Clothes are everything and posture reflects attitude, Sasha. If you hunch, you'll have a double chin and belly rolls. Is that what you want? To look fat?

I cringed as those delightful words replayed in my head. Yeah, because that's exactly what I wanted to hear after years of not seeing you—a lesson in posture.

Pfft. Bitch.

It was glaringly obvious her mothering skills were about as helpful as an umbrella in a hurricane and truthfully, I think her upping and leaving all those years ago was a blessing in disguise.

So I figured, screw it. 

I looked damned good and she could kiss my go to hell.

My long dark hair was styled into artful waves and throw in a little liner to make my blue eyes pop and a light gloss on my full lips.

Stepping back I glanced over my reflection.

It was the perfect balance between sensual and sophisticated, exactly the impression I wanted to make tonight.

A low whistle from behind had me spinning around and my brow crunching to find the last person I wanted to see propping himself against the frame of the door with his ankles crossed.

Ugh. "You got nothing better to do than be a creeper?" I snarked wondering how long he'd been standing there, he also looked a bit too self-satisfied for my liking.

He raised an eyebrow before his eyes wandered downward.

That's right. Soak it all up.  And it told me I had chosen the right dress. 

And then I let my eyes slip over what he was wearing. "And why are you all fancied up?" He was effortlessly styled, suited and booted, and yeah, begrudgingly I had to admit he looked good.

A slow, cocky smile spread across his mouth. "I can hardly be a creeper if I'm your fiancé."

With a huff, "Fake fiancé!" I snapped. "And it doesn't give you any right to just walk into my bedroom whenever the mood takes you."

"I can do whatever I want, Princess." He pushed off the frame and slowly walked around my room like he was walking around an art gallery or a museum, picking up pictures of me and other trinkets I'd collected over the years. With his back to me, he asked, "So... Tell me, where are we going?"

"You're insane if you think I'm going anywhere with you!" In my eyes, he was to be avoided at all costs, like an STD-riddled dick... which he could quite possibly have anyway.

He turned to face me, slipped his hand into his pocket, and pulled out his phone. "Should we see if Daddy agrees with you?"

I hadn't seen my Daddy since this morning when he still wouldn't tell me how long I had to keep up this charade. Just, a little longer, he's promised.

Although he still wouldn't tell me what Jarrod and my mother had over him.

My mother was still in New York, but unfortunately, she was due in LA, tomorrow.

So... I had to put up with this smug asshole.  But maybe I could bluff because he was not ruining my night—not tonight.

"Make the call. We're not going anywhere together," doubling down, I stomped over to my bed and sat on the corner reaching for my beautiful Stuart Weitzman Stiletto's that would have Cinderella drooling. "You do know as soon as my father has figured a way out of this...bullshit.  You can have your stupid ring back."

Jarrod was just as tight-lipped as to what was going on.

"Oh, I think by the time that happens I will have changed your mind," he spoke confidently.

Pfft. In his dreams.

I stood up and watched him press his phone to his ear... "Ryan...hang on." He came closer and handed over his phone and my eyes narrowed to slits as I took it from him. Asshole.

"Hi, Daddy."

"Sasha, what is it?" He sounded flustered.

I silently cursed but then I heard a deep male voice in the background. "Is someone with you?" Call me paranoid, but it sounded suspiciously like Zack's voice, but that was crazy, right?

"It's Callaghan," he said, "Did you want something?"

Callaghan, huh? Okay.

I turned away from the asshole but I knew there was little chance my father would side with me on this. "Nothing. It can wait. I'll see you tomorrow, Daddy."

I ended the call and turned back around. "Whatever." I shrugged. "Where I'm going you can't get in unless you're a member." I tilted my chin up trying to act indifferent to his overall smugness. "But if you want to wait in the car all night, then I can't stop you."

"Tell me where you're going."

I smoothed down my dress. Tonight I was heading to a little induction soiree for submissives... at Risk.

Yeah, Yeah. I hear you.

But Sasha, that's Zack's club.

Well, it had nothing to do with it being Zack's club.

Yeah, keep telling yourself that.

Ignoring that voice. The answer was simple—Risk was the best and hottest kink club on the West Coast, however, membership wasn't as easy as just flashing your ID and credit card.

Oh no, it had a wait-list of around a year which meant I had to do a little name-dropping, but so what? It got me through the door and it wasn't like Zack was gonna find out.

So after filling out the questionnaires, medical documentation, consent forms, an iron-clad non-disclosure agreement and finally a scene induction. I was in!

"Sasha," Jarrod said in a deep rumble as he moved closer to loom over me. "Where are you going?"

He was standing entirely too close looking incredibly amused. I narrowed my eyes on him. Surely there was no way Mr Vanilla here would be a member of Risk—right?

I mean I asked, just for the simple thing of being fucked into the headboard, tied up, spanked, hell, if he'd just eaten me out like he was starved for me would have been enough—then. But not now.

"A member of?" he reminded me, stepping even closer. "And if I'm not, then I'm sure I can buy my way in." The start of an evil grin lifted his top lip.

I glared hard at him crossing my arms. Fine. "The kink club, Risk."

That evil ass grin spread even wider. "I'm already a member."

Well, shit.

~ ~

Jarrod was telling the truth and on arrival, they greeted him by name. And now standing in what was known as the deck, he was sipping on a drink with that smug look still plastered to his irritatingly handsome face.

I picked up my glass of water. "So,"  taking a sip. "Explain it to me—why are you a member when you don't have an ounce of kink in your veins?"

His perfectly manicured dark brows dipped down as he squinted at me in confusion. "Just because I don't like to choke or beat on women, Princess, doesn't mean I don't have clients that do."

I rolled my eyes. "You don't know much about the lifestyle—I don't want to be beat on by anyone."

His eyebrow arched, "Huh, but you do like to be choked?"

I fingered my neck, remembering how Zack and Ellis would close their hands over my throat, never enough to cut off breathing, just enough to show their control.

Yes. I liked it... and being spanked and caned as well as being tied up and called a slut and a whore.  Pretty normal stuff for any kinkster.

But just like that, I was taken back to three weeks ago and my eyes burned, matching the aching lump in my throat and I quickly blinked them away.

I shouldn't cry over someone who wouldn't cry over me.

God, I hated my heart sometimes.

I was still suffering the consequences of having a weak one. Addiction was the hallmark of every infatuation-based love story. It all begins when the object of your adoration bestows upon you a heady, hallucinogenic dose of something you never dared to admit you wanted and then bang as soon as you start craving that intense attention, with a hungry obsession of any junkie. The rug is ripped from beneath you, leaving you wanting and maybe a little desperate—not to mention resentful of those who did this to you. Them.

So what now? Well, I had to fill this void and I couldn't wait around in the crazy hope that one or both of them would show up and tell me how dumb and stubborn, oh and not to forget how cruel they'd been. The fantasy was always the same, them on their hands and knees. Naked... and begging of course. Sometimes I also lay them out flat on the ground and walked across their hard bodies in these shoes... huh, maybe I was a little sadistic?

Sigh. That shit only happened in the movies though, oh and my crazy head.

"But you satisfy your curiosity, Princess," Jarrod continued, "Clients, however, do like this kind of thing and making them happy—makes me money."

That made sense.

"And if this is what you're into, then I'm willing to entertain it."

"I've already told you me and you it's never going to happen."

He put his glass down and moved closer and I stood my ground as his warm lips feathered my ear. "Trust me, I can be very convincing."

Trust him?  What was he not getting?

It wasn't just the vanilla issue... it was the whole 'cheating' thing.

He moved back and I was about to say something when my attention was diverted to the double doors opening and filling the open doorway was a Dom standing almost six feet with level, broad shoulders. Silver flecked his neatly trimmed black hair. And from here he had the very same overwhelming sense of authority that Zack had in spades.

That alone should stamp on any thoughts of going near the man... but what harm would it do getting a little closer?

"Submissives, the evening starts now. Please come through."

Oooh, that voice too. Yep, no harm in checking him out and swallowing, I shoved down the rush of happiness

Putting down my glass I started to make my way with the other submissives here. Jarrod hadn't been joking when he'd said he would stay glued to my side tonight but I turned and whispered. "One word from you to ruin this for me and I don't care what my father says I will have you killed."

I would also happily donate his 'priceless' ring to the nearest homeless person.

Undeterred by my threat he chuckled.

Ugh. No matter, I could ignore him.

Tonight, there were at least another fifteen other submissives, a mix of male and female. This event was held quarterly for those who wished to learn more or seek out a Dom... and the invite said anything goes, within your safe limits of course.

Whoa.

My feet came to an abrupt stop and my eyes widened as they wandered around the room.

It was then that I realised I was rooted to the spot just a few feet inside the door, too overwhelmed with nerves, excitement, and a heavy dose of shock to move.

Shock, because the second I stepped through the door a moment ago, I realised what tonight was really all about.

Finding a potential Dom.

Replacing Zack and Ellis.

"Okay, Sasha?" asked Jarrod.

Giving my head a quick shake, I was okay.  "Absolutely."

There were scenes already set up and in play and Dom's and Domme's, those who weren't playing stayed at the far end.

Tonight was also a little different because this was the only time a submissive could openly approach a Dom, where usually, the sub had to wait until they were approached.

That was both a little nerve-wracking and exciting.

I'd also been given a silver bracelet adorned with my chosen colour beads. Each colour represented a kink and level of experience. I'd kept mine simple and had a green bead for a newbie to the scene and purple for an interest in masochism as well as red for bondage and lastly pink for voyeurism. Others had yellow for experienced and blue for those looking for a master/slave dynamic.

The Doms wore something similar but theirs was a plain wristband coloured the same way.

I was looking for someone experienced but on the mild to moderate sadistic scale but who still pushed my boundaries and would not ignore my hard limits... unlike someone I knew.

I hedged forward, deeper in the room, oblivious to Jarrod being a step behind and I rolled my shoulders back and held my head high allowing my heels to glide across the shiny floor. I could do this, there was no room for being bashful tonight.

"Remember the rules, Princess. No sex," said my stalker / cock-blocker. 

He had tried to lay down the law on the car ride over. The man just wasn't quitting.

However, I had no intention of coming here to have sex. Sex was easy, I could use any app and have a man at my door with his tail wagging and his tongue hanging out in less than thirty minutes if this was about sex.

No, this was me dipping my toes back in, figuring out what I wanted for myself. Proving to myself that I didn't need Zack and Ellis.

"Welcome to the weird and weirder," I heard Jarrod mutter.

No kidding. I was back to being Alice in Fetishland and for the first time since that last day at risk, I felt like I'd come home. These were my people. I wasn't weird here, I could just be me.

But it was time for Jarrod to go annoy someone else, or at least go stand at the bar. I whirled around. "Shoo. This is as far as you go." I waved him off. "You can watch from a distance."

He eyed me for a moment and grumbled under his breath but then thankfully did as he was told and with him gone I could now focus on tonight.

"Have you tried a knotted flogger?"  A very pretty sub shivered in front of me as if recalling the pleasurable act. It made my heart race.

"No," replied her friend. "I stick to the deerskin. I haven't quite graduated to the rougher stuff yet."

"Girl, you don't know what you're missing." she batted back.

Huh, guess I wasn't such a newbie after all. 

Now... where was I?

I spotted the Dom from earlier the one that had called us through. From where I stood I could see on his wrist he wore yellow and red colour bands.

Experienced and interested in bondage.

And there was no harm in talking to him.

I got this, sucking in a bracing breath I weaved through the mingling subs, trying not to openly gawk at...everything. Well-lit stages on the right and left wall had small groups around them; one had two men demonstrating how to tie a naked woman in a ka-zillion ropes and suspend her from the ceiling. The stage on the right had an older Dom wielding a whip. The cracking sound and the red welts appearing on the young man bound to a post made my stomach flip.

X-shaped frames, cross-shaped frames, sawhorse-like tables. Manacles dangled from a low beam. Long, waist-high, leather-covered tables had people tied down on them. A Dom dripped wax on the bare breasts of his sub.

My smile got bigger.

And a sharp zap of lust hits me right between my thighs, and my knees buckled at the force of it. But just before I embarrassed myself and maybe tripped over just from pure lust, a strong arm banded around my waist, catching me and keeping me steady. 

I gasped, more from the tingles that raced through my body than his sudden appearance. I glanced down at the stranger's arm, finding a black shirt rolled up at the sleeves, exposing a dusting of blonde hair across his veiny, corded forearm.

But what caught my full attention was he wasn't wearing a wrist band and I knew it wasn't Jarrod because he was wearing a white shirt underneath his suit jacket.

So who was it, was the last thought I had before he whispered in my ear, sending equal shockwaves and heat waves through my body.

"Tell me, if I slip my hand under your dress, will I find you naked and wet for me?"