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The first tinge of remembered embarrassment slipped through her.Thinking back on the early days of exploring the lifestyle made her cringe.There had been so many mistakes.
“I met someone at a club,” she started.“Not a BDSM club.I mean, not one like this.There’s this bar in Hollywood that had themed nights, all sort of dark and alternative themed.Friday nights were BDSM, though they didn’t call it that.Everyone wore fet wear and danced on the ground floor.The second floor, which was more of a loft, had performances.Mostly girls tied to St.Andrew’s crosses with electrical tape on their nipples getting flogged.A low-speed, leisurely flogging.”
“You went and watched?”
“I did.I used to go every week.I’d gotten into it thanks to reading—first romance novels with BDSM in them, then fetish fan-fic and blogs of people who were in—or at least claimed to be in—the lifestyle.”
She wasn’t sure why she was giving all this backstory.Why she wanted him to really understand her.
“Going to this club was my safe way of seeing it in person.”
Tareq rubbed small circles on the inside of her knees with his thumbs.“All you did was watch?”
“Yes, for months.I mean it was only once a week so probably eight or nine times.”
His hands glided down until his fingers were splayed along the insides of her thighs, gentle pressure urging her to relax her legs, let them fall open a little more.
Having her legs forced open, knowing exactly how exposed her pussy was, had her aching with need and the desire to be used.
“One night I saw this guy looking at me.I ignored it.Figured he was being an ass and judging me.Or pissed that I was in the club, in fet wear.”
Tareq frowned.“What do you mean?”
“If he came there to ogle pretty half-naked women, seeing me, me who probably didn’t match his vision for what a submissive should look like, would piss him off.I wasn’t part of whatever fantasy he’d created.”
This conversation was raw emotional vulnerability.Tareq seemed to like the way she looked.Maybe he was just being polite, but either way, once again having to remind him how the rest of the world thought “fat” was a dirty word, and found her unacceptably unattractive, had something close to shame heating her face.
“I figured he didn’t like that I was showing skin—I had this corset bra that was black with crisscrossing straps over the chest and black leggings that laced up the side.I wore a sheer shirt over it at the beginning of the night, but as I got more turned on, I always ended up taking it off, so my stomach was bare.”
He nodded slowly, but was frowning.
“So this guy is looking at me, and I’m both pissed—because how dare he try to make me feel like I didn’t belong in that space—and a little turned on, because the way he was watching me, all focused and intense, made me think that if he wasn’t pissed, he was interested.”
“That’s…”
“I know, but sometimes all we can actually read in another person’s expression is intensity, and anger and desire are both intense emotions.”She could have continued lecturing on that topic, but decided to be smart and stop now.
Tareq’s gaze was steady, his attention flicking from her face to her tits, pussy, and back.As if he was constantly checking just to make sure he could see and access her body, his slight frown a sign of focus, but it could easily be mis-read as a different emotion.
“Yes, just like that,” she murmured dryly.
Tareq froze, then grinned.“So he was looking at you like he was thinking about all the things he wanted to do to you.”
“Yes.Well, like I said, at the time I wasn’t sure.But after this one scene ended—the Dom was flogging this blond woman’s breasts and she was moaning and jerking on the St.Andrew’s—he came and sat next to me.”
Tareq reached up to cup her breasts, his thumbs on her areolas, but not touching her nipples.The intimate contact made it easier for her to tell the rest of this story.
“This guy sat down right next to me—they had these long black couches.I remember being so tense, braced for him to say something horrible, but hoping he’d say something sexy.”
“And did he?”
“He didn’t say anything at all.He grabbed my hair, just grabbed a handful, and pushed.”She leaned her head forward away from the wall, mimicking that long-ago interaction.“It took me a minute to realize what he was doing, for me to figure it out and let him urge me off the couch so I was kneeling on the floor.”
“No discussion, no clarification, no permission?”
“Nope.And looking back that was completely fucked up.But at the time…” Nomi winced as she said the next part.“At the time it was the hottest thing that had ever happened to me.I’d read enough to know that it was probably wrong, but I was so desperate to try this thing I longed for that I didn’t care.”
His thumbs slid across her nipples and back, twin spikes of pleasure.
