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Madam LaSalle arched her eyebrow. “Dear girl, your figure is luscious with curves in all the right spots. I doubt very much your Dom wants to minimize anything.”
“I have to tell you, Anabella, she’s right. Madam, do you have anything that would be suitable and could be made right for tonight?”
The old woman smiled mischievously. “I do. I had a customer cancel an order and the color would be magnificent on Anabella. Come along, let’s see what we can do.”
Several hours later, Anabella was the proud owner of three corsets—one she could pick up later in the day and two more that would be ready in a month. The first corset was a gorgeous, pale celadon green color, with soft pink cabbage roses and darker green vining. Both Miley and Madam had eschewed her wanting boy shorts or a micro mini. Both had insisted that Cooper was most definitely a thong kind of guy.
“That thong covers nothing,” said Anabella as they exited the shop.
“That’s kind of the point. It will cover your sex and accentuate your ass. I can pretty much tell you; you’re going to get spanked. It’s how most Doms express their displeasure with your behavior. I could be wrong as Coop truly is a whipmaster, but either way, he’s going to be looking for atonement on your part. And be warned, Coop can be very creative where discipline is concerned.”
“Will it hurt?”
“Hurt is too strong a word. It’ll sting, but more than that it can heat a fire in your blood that is second to none. Coop once actually made me orgasm with his single tail. There are going to be a lot of very unhappy subs when they realize he’s off the market. Now, come along, we have hair, nails, toes and makeup to do.”
Anabella spent the rest of the afternoon letting Miley basically play dress-up with her, but never once did Miley make her feel uncomfortable or that she wasn’t all in for Team Anabella. She was poked, prodded, painted, colored, shaped, and styled and Anabella felt more beautiful than she ever had in her life. The last thing they picked up was a wonderful vintage trench coat and a pair of wellington boots.
They returned to Speak Easy where Madam and Miley helped her into her corset. When they turned her towards the full-length mirror, she could see why they had both been so sure of the corset style as well as the fabric. She slipped into her trench coat and wellies as she planned to be barefoot in the club.
“Come on we need to hurry. I want to be able to touch up your hair and make-up and ensure the right people are in the lounge.”
“Those that want to see me grovel?” joked Anabella.
“No. No one wants to see you grovel, especially Coop. But there are those who have watched him hurt and if he chooses are entitled to see him mete out your punishment.”
“Please tell me you’ll be there.”
“Absolutely. Samantha and Camille as well. I’ll need to get dressed so they’ll help with last minute preparations.”
Miley directed the cabbie to the back of the building so they could enter unseen. As they entered, Miley introduced Anabella to Camille and Samantha, who led them into the submissives’ salon. It was basically a woman’s locker room—but one that had been done in an art deco style with comfortable seating, individual lockers, showers, toilets, and vanities.
When Anabella shrugged out of her trench coat both Samantha and Camille gasped.
“You look fabulous,” said Camille. “That is stunning on you.”
“It is, indeed,” agreed Samantha.
When all three were agreed she was perfection, they headed to the lounge. Anabella balked at the door.
“I don’t know if I can go out there with all of this showing,” she said.
“None of us are perfect, and everyone in and around a dungeon is showing a lot of skin. Most of the guys will be in skintight leathers with either nothing on top, a leather vest, or something that looks like it came out of a pirate movie. King promised he’d have Coop here on time. Trust me, that was no easy feat, but he’s going to be gobsmacked when he sees you. No one else is allowed in until we have you in position.”
They dragged her up to the lounge and placed a velvet floor pillow next to Cooper’s favorite chair. They helped her to kneel, with her legs spread just wide enough, spine straight and hands resting on her thighs with her palms up and her eyes cast down. Contrary to what she had believed, she found the position rather relaxing and at least she didn’t have to look anyone in the eye as they filed in.
“Remember, keep your eyes downcast until Coop tells you differently,” whispered Miley. “You are not alone and not one person in this lounge wants anything but the best for the two of you.”
It was all she could do not to bolt. This was an incredibly bad idea. What if Coop chose to reject her the way it must seem she had done to him? She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. If he did, then at least she’d given him that.
As a clock somewhere in the lounge tolled eight bells, she could feel the change in the atmosphere as he entered the lounge. With the exception of the clock chiming eight times there was absolutely no sound.
“Anabella?” he asked so quietly she could barely hear him.
She started to raise her head to look into his face to see if she could read what he was thinking, but then remembered what Miley had told her.
“It’s all right, baby, you can raise your head.”
How had she ever thought she could go on living without him? He knew her so well and read her body language like a book. She could feel the tears welling in her eyes. Could he ever find it in his heart to forgive her? Mustering all her courage, she raised her head to look at his face, and then all her fear disappeared.
