AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I’m trembling when I arrive at Sins. I sit in my semi-wrecked car and try to work up the nerve to go in.
I’m wearing black thigh-highs with the seam up the back and little satin bows at the top, a short black skirt, and an asymmetrical top that’s sleeveless on one side and strappy on the other. I’m not sure how to play this. My co-workers will think I’m coming in for my shift. When they see me with Marco, I will never hear the end of it. Everyone is going to want to know how he broke down my resolve to never play at my workplace.
A light tapping at my window makes me scream.
“Oh! Marco!” I struggle to open my door with trembling fingers, but he gets it open first.
He’s in dom mode, wearing one of those commanding, unforgiving masks the doms put on for their submissive. It’s different from the indulgent charm he uses when ordering drinks from me.
Whatever he sees in my face makes his expression soften.
“Hi.” He cradles my cheek with his hand–like a lover, not a master–and slowly lowers his face to mine.
His lips brush over my open mouth, then he tastes me. The kiss grows, starting soft, ending with his tongue deep in my mouth, his teeth scraping over my lips and me soaking my panties.
“You look beautiful, Taylor,” he murmurs, still cradling my face with one hand.
I’m breathless. “Thank you.”
“Thank you, Sir,” he corrects but his lips quirk at the corners. “Tonight you’ll follow protocol. You’ll address me as Sir or Master. You’ll do nothing without permission or my command. Any hesitation or disobedience will be punished. Are we clear?”
My palms are sweaty and my heart hammers against my ribs. My head bobs my agreement.
“Yes, Sir,” he corrects.
“Yes, Sir.” It sounds like I’ve just run a hundred yard dash.
He kisses my forehead. It seems like an oddly tender gesture and I try to remember if I’ve seen him do it with his submissives before. “Good girl.”
I’m not working for his tips tonight, but it seems I still love to earn his approval, because the words enter my chest and send warmth cascading down to my toes. I relax and allow him to usher me out of the parking lot and through the back door.
“I’ve arranged for a private room upstairs,” he says, guiding me to the back staircase.
I’m instantly relieved. He seems to understand that I don’t want to be observed by my co-workers while we scene. The private rooms upstairs cost five grand a night. I’m sure Marco can afford it, but he usually chooses a more public play area downstairs, so I’m gratified he was willing to make this consideration for me.
His hand rests lightly at my lower back as I hike the stairs in my stilettos, distinctly aware of everything around me–the deep, grinding pulse of the music, the shimmer of red and blue light, the distant crack of a paddle and a resulting scream.
Landon, one of Sins’ dungeon masters stands in the hallway, monitoring.
Even the private rooms are supervised at Sins with black curtains instead of doors and a one-way mirror in each area for observation. My boss wants to ensure everything remains safe, sane, and consensual.
I know that if I said “Red” and Marco didn’t respect it, Landon would step in. He and I once had a conversation about the fact that Marco and his buddies were probably mafia but that wouldn’t stop him from protecting a submissive from one of them if he had to. He also said that the guys had never once given him any trouble, which has been my experience, too. In fact, I feel like they’re more respectful than a lot of the guys who come to Sins.
Landon points us to our reserved room and Marco holds the curtain back for me to enter.
It has a leather loveseat, a spanking bench and a small table with an array of implements neatly arranged. I see a paddle, hairbrush, leather slapper, cat o’nine tails, and soft red ribbon.
My knees buckle.
Marco loops an arm around me from behind and pulls me against his body. “Don’t be scared, angel.” His breath feathers hot against the shell of my ear. “I won’t use the wicked ones unless you misbehave.”
My pussy clenches.
“But you’re not going to misbehave, are you?”
“No, Sir.”
“Good girl.” His hand slides lower, down my thigh to the edge of my skirt, then back up the inside. He traces the top of my thigh-high with a light touch. “I like these.” He turns me to face him. “Let me see them, properly.” His voice takes on the deeper tenor of a command.
