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With her lips pressed together, Dylan hid the defeat welling up inside. She had hoped it would take Ari longer to spread her wings or thighs. But that was the job. Ari was a submissive, expected to work the floor along with the other girls, and Dylan needed to train her. Nothing more. Still, Dylan felt a smidgen of sadness knowing this woman wanted more than her. She needed to channel this feeling elsewhere. Ari was a blank slate, and Dylan could paint this nude canvas in warm colors of submission for the perverse world of Adytum.
“Wow! This is an unexpected development. Only a week ago, you were begging me to scrub toilets for a living, and now you’re asking to be fed to the lionesses. Ripped apart at the seams. Are you sure you’re ready for that?”
“After what I saw last week, I realize this is something I really want.” With a seductive grin facing up to Dylan, Ari confirmed, “And the idea of you as my teacher ... if you checked, you’d know I am very ready, Boss.”
That was more than an innuendo. Given the arch of her brow, surely that was an invitation. Dylan’s mind flashed to Ari’s consent form, knowing she had the freedom to touch Ari whenever she wanted. Even as her superior, her “Boss.” The signature Ari provided said she’d given up any right to sue Dylan if she changed her mind.
A month ago, Dylan might have thought differently about the company’s policy against management-employee intimate relationships, but with Ari on her knees and wanting more, she tossed her reluctance aside. Dylan bent down and slid her hand underneath the hem of the silk nightie. Pleased to find Ari’s soft skin uncovered, Dylan smirked. When her meaty fingertip dipped below the groomed patch of hair leading to her moist slit, Ari’s breath hitched. Dylan’s core pulsated as if she was the one being fucked.
With a hum of delight coursing through her body, she removed her finger from Ari’s wetness and issued a command. “Do not move from that position. No matter how long I am gone.”
Outside the door of the office, Dylan leaned against the wall, away from the little window in the door. Her pulse drummed a rhythm of excitement as she lifted her fingers to her face and placed them in her mouth. The scent was intoxicating, and the taste was sweeter than cotton candy. It was as if Ari’s safe word held significance. Not only a signal to stop, but also a reminder of what Dylan would lose if she went too far. Still outside the door, Dylan’s heart twisted. The training had happened faster than expected. She assumed she’d have at least another week of parading Ari around like a show pony. Now Ari was ready to be ridden. She’d soon leave the pasture and entertain the other riders.
Dylan checked her watch. Ten minutes had passed. She returned to the office and closed the door. Behind Ari, she reached forward and gathered her hair like making a ponytail. “Do you know what our clients want, Miss Delgado?”
Ari cast a glance over her shoulder as a chuckle escaped her lips. “Sex?”
“Eyes forward!” Dylan said, her tone dripping with venom she wanted to inject into anyone who’d want to touch her pet. In one swift motion, Dylan tugged her head back, exposing the jugular veins of her neck as a glare bore down on Ari’s green eyes. “No, Miss Delgado. Our clients want freedom. The laws of society state they should have a certain level of decorum—professionalism. Not here. We give them that freedom–without judgment–to indulge in what society deems immoral. It is much more than just sex, Miss Delgado. Now. Stand up and face me.”
Pleased to see Ari obey, Dylan raked her eyes over the body of the fledgling submissive before her. Tight nipples poked bumps in the sheer dress. Knees bright red from the textured carpet. Dylan took a menacing step forward, which caused Ari to take a cowering step back, her legs now against the desk, her chest rising and falling in sync with her boss’s breathing. Dylan leaned over and pressed her body into Ari’s while reaching around the desk. She pulled out the collar and leash with one hand while her other found its way under the hem of the pink nightie, again gliding into the wetness that waited for her.
“Do not move. As much as this feels good, do not lean into it. I—” Dylan switched her words. This wasn’t about her. “The client will want you to keep your composure—as if what she is doing is wrong. She wants your hesitancy, your fear.”
Just as Ari opened her mouth to say something, Dylan leaned into Ari’s ear and whispered, “She wants it to be a forbidden secret between you and her.”
Her actions skirted the edges of what the actual purpose of their encounter was supposed to be: a lesson. Dylan continued to circle her fingers, just enough to ignite the small bud into a flame. The fire on her fingers matched the one burning within herself. This forbidden fruit would be the death of her, and she didn’t care. She pushed Ari further, wiggling a faster circle over the clit.
“Don’t move,” Dylan said as her steamy breath coated Ari’s neck.
As Ari stayed perfectly still, fighting her body’s need to roll with the motions, her mouth gaped with a moan caught in her breath. That was when Dylan let go. She removed her hand from underneath the dress and stepped back.
“Good girl,” she said as she fastened the leash to the D-ring and gave a slight tug. “Let’s get you ready for work.”
They walked through the ballroom instead of taking the back way to La Prizonye. It was important to keep the appearance of a training session. Cooper stopped stocking the shelves of the bar and glared at them as they passed. Instead of engaging in some childish standoff, Dylan ignored Cooper’s condescending looks and guided Ari to the large painting on the wall.
“You know, when I first came to Adytum, I stood in front of this painting for hours, staring at it and trying to understand its meaning. You seemed to have done that, too, on your first day. What was it that drew your attention to this piece of art?”
Together, they gazed up at the painting depicting a she-devil towering over an enslaved woman and holding her whip-like tail high above. The slave’s chains had her legs spread with a gaping hole, like a wide mouth in her center, ready to receive the succubus’s offering with begging eyes. They held no fear, only an unwavering love for the devil. An equal respect was given by the succubus to the slave. The painting was a gift to Maxi from a local artist as a token of appreciation for her contribution to the BDSM community.
“She’s so powerful and strong, but there’s no anger in her eyes. It’s as if ...” Ari said, in awe of the beauty before her, then paused. She looked up as if a bulb had lit above her. “Like they have a mutual admiration for each other.”
To mimic the same look as the devil in the painting, Dylan peered down into Ari’s yearning eyes. Within the walls of Adytum, there was a gray area around the exchange of power. Outside the club’s walls, submissives held the power. But inside? The paying client was the true owner of power. With that sobering thought, Dylan tugged the leash and nodded toward the archway leading to La Prizonye, which would soon be full of eager women awaiting Lady Katrina’s illicit performance.
After hours, the room had seen its fair share of use by the Adytum employees. Dylan had even used the stage when she first arrived at Adytum, but she preferred the privacy of a suite. That wouldn’t be the case while training Ari. As much as she wanted them to tuck away into a bungalow of love, Ari was an employee, not a potential love interest. She led her to the stage, where Ari wandered around to familiarize herself with the environment and the equipment. She spun around, taking in the wide-open space where there was nowhere to hide.
“Kneel, Miss Delgado.”
The command startled Ari, causing her eyes to blink in surprise. She tilted her head as the questioning on her face morphed into respect. One knee at a time, she lowered herself in front of Dylan. “Yes, Boss.”
With a curl of her finger, she lifted Ari’s chin until their eyes met. “Always remain focused on me, the client. Remember the painting. That admiration was there because the submissive was strong enough to hand the power over to the devil. It takes a special woman to relinquish control to another. To trust that a Mistress will reward her with pleasure and that her Mistress will care for her.” Dylan stroked Ari’s cheek, then continued, “You asked me to teach you how to work the floor. I can do It, but I need to know ... Do you want to give me power over you? Do you trust me, Miss Delgado?”
Seeing Ari’s throat move as she gulped gave Dylan pause until she heard Ari’s sweet voice sound out without hesitation, “Yes, Boss.”
The response was all Dylan needed to know Ari would be all hers. She prompted Ari with a flick of her hand. “Stand up.”
Without breaking eye contact, she obeyed and followed Dylan toward the large wooden X in the middle of the stage. Her finger caressed the fixture as if she admired its meaning.
“You’ve seen our members use the Saint Andrew’s crosses on the floor. It’s a popular piece because of the many ways one can be displayed. Stand in front of it. Spread your legs so your legs align with the shape.”
