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August 6 - August 7, 2024
“The Dom pays high dollar for a sex slave for a month, and the Sub gets to live out her fantasy of being dominated. Sometimes, they might even forge a relationship outside of the club’s perimeters if they decide they like each other enough, like what happened with me and Bruce.”
Years after my traumatic experience, I’d grown up with the desire to be dominated. Which is ironic, because my uncle was never harsh or rough. He held me down, but then I gave up. The things I need to get off are highly specific.
The rose color of the Submissive indicates her preferences, so please take note. Pink - Virgin Cream - Finding limits/BDSM virgin Yellow - Simple bondage D/s Black - Carte blanche Red - Pain is preferred S/M No flower - 24/7 power exchange
“You’re beautiful, Dahlia.” I turn to face the woman behind me. “These men know what real women look like.”
This guy sounds like he really wanted you. It’s been awhile since a chick commanded that kind of price.” She scowls. “I’m jealous.”
“Just remember to relax and enjoy yourself,” she advises. “A good Dom will make you feel safe in surrendering to him.”
I start to worry as she doesn’t say it. She doesn’t give me any indication that she’s close to her limit. She wants this, she’s enjoying the pleasure and pain blending into one, but I’m nearing my own limits. She isn’t a red girl. There was no indication that she preferred pain in the meeting or the pamphlet.
I can’t deny that I’m already thinking about taking her out again. Just the mention of dinner made her obviously happy. I love the look on her face, and I want to keep her satisfied. I know Madam Lynn has extended contracts in the past, so perhaps my Dahlia will be happy enough with the same arrangements. I slip my jacket off my shoulders and place it around hers even though we aren’t outside yet.
her smile widens. My chest swells with pride that I can put that beautiful look on her face.
There’s something bothering her though. It was obvious with the way she was hesitating last night. I don’t like it. I don’t like her keeping secrets from me.
I stop for a moment to touch the necklace at my throat. Lucian gave it to me this morning. It’s beautiful, made of gold and diamonds and has a bold, but elegant thickness to it. He wants me to be collared at all times. And he’s obtained a variety of them for me. I’m spoiled. I’m very well aware that he’s spoiling me in the jewelry department.
For dinner, Lucian wanted to pass on takeout and bond over making homemade pizza.
she’s my priority.
A smile graces my lip when my fingers run over the engraving on the outside of the steel mug. Please, sir. She thinks she’s cute, my treasure. And she is.
She can’t leave me. I know she loves me. I fucking love her, too. I’ll give her whatever she wants. I just need her back.
“It’s not about forgiveness. I think… I love you, Lucian. And that scares the hell out of me.”
“Fuck the contract! Just don’t leave me!” I stare deep into her eyes, feeling the emotions consuming me. I’m just as raw and vulnerable as she is. “I love you, Dahlia. I want you, and I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you.”
“I love you and I can’t let you go,” I whisper as I pull her close to me, crushing her small body against mine and molding my lips to hers.
“Let me love you forever,” I say softly. That’s all I want. It’s all I need. “Don’t leave me again.” “Never. I’ll never leave.” A weight lifts off my chest as I crash my lips against hers again, needing to feel her. Needing to show her what she means to me. “I love you, Lucian.” Her words make my eyes slowly open and I stare into those beautiful hazel eyes. “I love you, treasure.”
“I love you, treasure,” I say and kiss her wrist again. It’s her left hand and I know I’m going to be putting my ring there soon. I want everyone to know she belongs to me. “I love you, too,”
I know she’s meant for me. I knew the second I saw her that she needed me just as much as I needed her.
“Sir?” she addresses me, turning slightly still in her kneeling position to face me and placing her small hands on my shoe before resting her cheek on the floor. A sign of complete submission. She chose me.
RULES
My words aren’t enough. But I’ll prove to her I mean what I say. She’ll see her beauty. And if she detests her scars, I’ll take them away.
A bracelet, or an anklet if she’d like. It’s from Pandora, and customizable with trinkets on it.
“I’m sorry! I’m so fucking sorry! I’m broken. I’m hurt. I need you in my life. I need to lean on you and learn to put faith and trust in you like you do me!” I reach out for her, gripping onto her thighs and pulling her closer to me. “Is that what you want?”
letting me hold her again. “I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you,” I whisper in her ear, kissing her shoulder, her cheek. Finally, her lips. She kisses me with the same intensity I feel. She's equal to me in every way. “You deserve better than me. More than what I can give you. But if you want me, I won’t deny you.” I give her a soft chaste kiss, pressing my lips to hers and feeling closer to her than I’ve ever been to anyone. “I fucking love you, Katia.” “I love you, Isaac.” Her voice is soft and gentle. “My Master,” she says in a whisper. “I love you.”
Her family is having a dinner to celebrate Lyssa’s departure into her independence, or so Katia thinks. Her entire family already knows that I’ll be proposing. I promised them she’ll forever be surrounded by love. She deserves it.
Books are my biggest obsession; even ones I don’t love. They keep me sane and positive. They give me hope.
Several white roses, and a smartphone with a platinum cover on it. My heart pounds in my chest as I pick it up out of the box, examining the high quality finish. A phone? He could have just asked for my number! I shake my head at the thought, but my heart won’t stop beating erratically and my head won’t stop shaking.
I pull her closer to me, her arms bending as my lips brush against hers. My heart seems to slow when I open my eyes and find her pale blue gaze shining back at me. There’s a look there I should fear. Something that tells me I should end this. But I don’t want to. I refuse to.
“I like you like this,” I say softly, still not quite sure if he’s really not mad at me. Maybe he knew I’d be looking. He always seems to know what I’m up to. “Like what?” Joseph asks. “I don’t know, just when you’re kind and playful.” He scoffs, shaking his head as he responds, “Those words aren’t used to describe me very often.”
