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Never in my life have I seen someone with more confidence, including the woman who masturbated in front of an audience, like it was just another day at work.
Eden is more than a sexy body and beautiful face. She’s a force. She’s like the sun, and we are all orbiting around her, basking in her glow. We are just grateful to be in her presence.
What I wouldn’t give to press my body to hers, feel her breasts against mine. I imagine myself running my tongue up her neck and across her cleavage. I wonder what sounds she makes when she comes or how her tongue would feel with mine.
I suddenly find myself crossing my legs, unable to take my eyes off her as she stares at him. I’ve never felt this way about a woman before. It feels so right.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Clay standing in nothing but his tight black silk boxer briefs.
Eden reaches for something hanging from the wall behind her. It’s a long black flexible rod with a tiny rectangle flap of leather at the end. It takes me a moment to remember the name—riding crop.
When she barks her first order, I jump in my seat.
“On your knees.”
My eyes dance over to where Clay is slowly lowering himself to the floor.
“Eyes on the floor,” she adds. Her commands are so clear and confident.
Clay stares at the deep-red rug as he waits for his next instructions.
“Come here.” She snaps her fingers at her side. Her tone is a little softer this time.
He moves to all fours, staring down as he crosses the room in an obedient crawl. When he reaches her feet, he doesn’t look up or move. He just waits.
“You listen so well,” she says in soft praise. “As a reward, you can worship me. You know what to do,” she says, nudging one black stiletto shoe closer to him. “Kiss them.”
As if he’s done this a hundred times before, Clay lowers himself until his lips are pressed to the shiny black surface of her shoe.
As I sit in the chair, watching them, I’m mesmerized. There’s something powerful and intimate between them. Clay is so naturally submissive to her, and it doesn’t look like weakness. It looks like control, loyalty, and dedication. It’s like he lives only for her, to obey her and please her.
Eden reaches down and grabs a fistful of his long brown hair and pulls him upward as she places her mouth near his ear. I stop breathing entirely as I watch.
“You see, Jade,” she says to me, and I perk up at the sound of my name. “Clay likes to come into these sessions feeling like the filthy, dirty dog he is. He loves it when I call him that, don’t you?”
His voice is rough, and his neck is strained as he replies, “Yes, Madame.”
“He wants to prove to me that he can be good. Don’t you, pet?”
“Yes, Madame,” he repeats.
“Sometimes that means letting me use him like a fuck toy, and sometimes it means being my footstool. But tonight, you’re going to prove yourself to me by showing me how you can take the pain. How does that sound, pet?”
“That sounds good, Madame.”
I’m hunched forward, my elbows on my knees as I chew on my nail, unable to take my eyes off of them. How are they so good at this? He’s not struggling or looking uncomfortable at all. If anything, he looks more like himself than I’ve ever seen.
“Then get on the cross,” she says, and I sit upright, confused as to what this means.
My eyes are wide as Clay stands from the floor and walks obediently to the large woodenXfastened to the wall. He faces it and spreads his arms out wide to meet the harnesses positioned on either side. His feet do the same.
“Jade, fasten that side,” Eden says to me in a cold, authoritative command.
I quickly stand from my seat and take his right arm. I stare at his face as I slip the leather buckle around his wrist. He won’t look away from the wall, no matter how much I wish he’d look at me.
After his arms and ankles are both bound, I move toward my seat again.
“Stay,” she says to me, and I pause just a few feet to her right. With my arms by my sides, I try not to let my nerves show.
