A Dirty Little Deal (5 page)

Tasha jumped at each shriek and moan, but peered surreptitiously around, taking it in. She squeezed my arm and her hip rubbed against me.

A man in a denim kilt wearing a t-shirt that proclaimed him to be a "Dungeon Master" approached us. "Mr. Twist," he said. "Your space is ready."

"Thank you," I paused, reading his nametag in the dim light, "Master Louis. I think we'll stroll around first, take in the sights, and then see it." I wanted to keep her curiosity piqued a bit longer, now that I knew she wasn't going to bolt and run.

Whether that would change once she realized, or thought she realized what I intended, I didn't know. But she'd given me hope and I was going to take it.

He nodded politely. "This is my area," he said, in a gesture that took in the entire corner of the floor. "Just tell me when you're ready and I'll show you to your space."

"Very good. Thank you, sir."

"You've thought this through, Mr. Twist," Cara Mia said.

Her voice told me she was impressed by the effort. I wasn't going to tell her that Master Black had done the bulk of the thinking, not to mention the arranging. But I would take the credit for it.

"I feel strongly about our future, Cara Mia. I've given it a great deal of consideration."

"I find that I care more about our future than I would have thought, Mr. Twist."

She did? "That makes me very pleased, Cara Mia."

She giggled. She was nervous, then. Good. I wanted whatever advantage I could have when it came to smashing her rules apart, pushing her past the boundaries of decorum she clung to so tightly.

We were passing an area marked off with tarps where people rolled in some what smelled like pudding. Shrieks of laughter came from just beyond it where they sprayed people off with a hose. I imagine it had to be cold water.

In another area, a woman squatted over a man and peed on his chest.

"Is that your secret fetish, Mr. Twist?" Cara asked, gesturing to the woman.

"No, nothing so exotic."

We watched two men wrestle and pummel each other on a huge padded mat under the watchful eye of a man wearing a T-shirt that read "Dungeon Monitor".

Cara Mia exhaled heavily.

"What is it?" I asked.

"For all the seeming atrocities I've seen as we have slummed so far, I'm heartened to know that this is not a free for all and there's some supervision as well as confidentiality agreements.

So Tasha was not ready to completely give in to Cara Mia. Not yet. Just then we saw some movement to our left and turned to look in the corner. The sign caught my eye first. "Slut" was spray painted in big, runny red letters on a sheet of butcher paper affixed to the interior wall. On the floor lay a woman wearing a trench coat, her bound hands tied to a piece of fancy metal work that decorated a short wall to our right. Her legs were tied open, attached to either end of a curb stop. Her apparent struggles had opened the coat and I could see she wore nothing underneath it.

She wore a gag and her make up had run, but she didn't seem distressed as her mouth worked the gag. She seemed more like a horse with a bit. She humped her hips in invitation at us.

Cara Mia groaned and looked away.

"Nothing happens here under duress or without a fully negotiated agreement," I said firmly. Indeed, Master Black had been at some pains to make sure I understood that everything that happened in this world of his was an exchange of power, completely honestly traded.

"What kind of rules does she have that she would require such a severe situation to let go?"

"I don't know," I said, watching her stare at the woman. I wouldn't have thought of it that way, but it was a more intense version of what I was doing to Tasha. I pictured Tasha slung out on her bed, hands, bound to the headboard, her hair mussed, trench coat in disarray as she watched me standing at the foot of the bed contemplating what treats I would find if I untied the knot of the coat belt.

Then I noticed Cara Mia lick her lips as a small moan escaped her lips when a man walked over to the bound woman and knelt down, whispering something. The woman groaned and the man brushed his fingers over her coat, pausing at the knotted belt.

Cara mia swayed a bit, shifting her weight from foot foot as her hips rolled.

Well, now. This was a long step in the direction I wanted her to go. It made me eager to get our own evening in gear.

"Are you ready to move on?" I whispered in her ear. She groaned softly and turned her face toward me. I kissed her and she kissed me back hard.

"Yes, Mr. Twist."

I took her by the waist and began walking away from the spectacle.

Chapter 6

A few steps later, she asked, "And so what have we negotiated?"

"We have negotiated that I love you and that you trust me to do as I see best for our relationship and ourselves."

"And how can that be an exchange of power?"

"You had and continue to have the opportunity to say no."

"And lose you." She frowned.

I turned her to face me and cupped her cheeks. "Then you understand the stakes," I said as I stared intently into her eyes, trying to force her to believe me. "You can say stop at any time and I will."

"And I lose you. How can that be fair?" Her eyes grew frantic.

I shook my head, denying her words. "If I do anything to you that is not to your liking, you can signal that you are reaching a hard limit or that you want to stop."

"And again, I lose you." She didn't quite wail, and I knew then that she loved me. My heart leaped in my chest, but I felt desperate to make her understand.

I swept her hands up to hold them against my chest tightly. I had to stand completely straight to meet her eyes with those heels on, and it seemed commensurate with what I was asking.

"Oh, Cara Mia, do you believe that I would do anything to you that would be beyond any capacity of either of us to enjoy? That I would somehow damage or humiliate you? That is part of the trust. I love you. I have said so and it's true."

"Then why must you do this? Why must you change everything?"

"That is a fair question. I love you, but I see that there is so much in you that longs to break free. I want to stoke the embers I see in you, blow on them until they blaze. I don't see that as a change so much as a liberation. A more honest, and pleasurable expression of who you really are."

"I never knew you were such a poet, Mr. Twist. But I'm quite content with my level of heat, thank you." But I knew she was lying by the way she had stared at that woman in the trench coat. She wanted this, Cara Mia just had to convince Tasha that she had no choice, like a skittish horse that needed convincing to run free.

I took the reins in my hands and did my best to convince her to go where I was pointing her.

"I think you have no idea what you're missing, what would happen if you allowed your passion to rise as high as it could go. As far as it wants to go." My fingers stroked hers and I lifted them to my mouth and kissed them gently.

"And you think that's your job as my lover? As the man who professes to love me?"

Even as she said it, I could see that the barb had laid bare the real question.

I met her eyes and said, "The question is really whether you will allow me to stoke your inner self and find out what that heat means to you."

I watched her consider those words, weigh the risks, the possibility of loss of humiliation, of victory.

When she asked, "If this," she gestured to the dress, the domino, the shoes, "is all a play, how do I signal you?" I knew I had won, but I let nothing show.

"Very simply. You cry yellow if I am approaching your limit, red if I have passed over your capacity to endure," I said simply.

"And then you leave me." She kept returning to that. That was good. It meant she might love me and was afraid to lose me. It could also be bad, if she could decide there was no win for her.

"No. My intent is only to give you the opportunity to show both us the depth of your desire. I wish to explore that with you."

"Rather selfish of you, isn't it?" A smile quirked at the corner of her mouth. She was smart. Very smart. And brave. I wanted her so much in that moment. But I remained where I was.

"I admit there are advantages to me, but I like to think they are reciprocal." I lifted a tendril away from her cheek, rubbed its silky softness between my fingers before letting it fall back. We stared at each other for a long moment.

"Enough of this," I said. "Let's go start so all the questions can be answered and everything revealed."

She laughed and I did, too, when I realized the double meaning. That she could find humor, any humor right now impressed me.

When she considered me very seriously for such a long moment, I knew she was chewing over the issues I had raised. She had not denied me completely, so she was intrigued. She could still say no. But I believe she thought they were somewhat tasty tidbits and not sour or unbearably gritty. "Very well, Mr. Twist. You may stoke my fire, show me the depths of my desire. But I will choose my limits and tell you when I reach them. You will honor those decisions."

"Very well, Cara Mia. I agree."

We turned and after a few minutes I saw and caught Master Louis' eye. He gestured us to follow and led us to a quiet corner on the opposite side of the entrance, where the exterior structure wall met a maintenance closet. The walls formed a corner that faced away from the action and gave a measure of privacy.

"I'll wander by as is my duty." He looked to Cara Mia. "Should you need anything, just call out to me. If you are gagged, jingle your safety piece."

"There will be no gagging," she said, "but I appreciate your thoughtfulness. I feel more comfortable knowing that you are doing your job."

"What are your safe words then?"

"Yellow and red," she said.

"Thank you, sir," I said.

"Good enough." He nodded, tipped his ball cap at both of us, and walked away, the ring of keys on his belt clinking. That's when I noticed the coiled whip on his opposite hip.

It made my desires seem quite attainable. Turning back to Cara Mia, I watched her scan over the contents of our meager love nest. A silver tarp spread out on the floor gave the dimensions to our space. A bright blue gym bag sat in the middle of the tarp on a black padded mat.

"Open the bag," I commanded, leaning easily on the closet wall as I watched her walk into the space. I got to see the view I'd been waiting for all evening. Her legs were trim, the high heels accentuating her narrow ankles. The knots of muscle on the backs of her calves were beautiful, giving her legs an added dimension and a lovely shape.

When she reached the bag, she knelt down to unzip it.

"No, Cara Mia," I said, watching her. "Bend over, don't crouch."

She paused and looked back at me.

"Do you understand?"

"Yes, Mr. Twist," she said, smirking. "I will bend over instead of crouching unless you tell me to." Her sarcasm did not escape me and I nodded at her. I never wanted a mouse. I wanted a lioness that roared her pleasure at me.

"Very good, Cara Mia."

Chapter 7

She turned her back deliberately to me and began pulling out bottles of water. Master Black had said this kind of play was hard work and exposed, even in a parking garage, we would both need water. It was my job to make sure she drank.

The dress was better than I'd hoped, caressing her curves as she moved. The material framed her heart-shaped ass, making it heartbreakingly beautiful. Bent over like that, the kick pleat at the bottom of the dress almost gave me a view of what lay far up under the dress.

"Open a bottle, please, Cara Mia, and drink some."

She turned and cracked the seal. A trickle of water spilled over her mouth and down her chin. I could see it glisten in the light from a fixture across the way.

I wished I could lick it, but not yet. Not yet.

A dark green woolen blanket was next. A pocket knife followed. I had intended to put it in my pocket, but he said it was better to have her discover it. She would think much on it that way, anticipating it, fearing it, possibly.

She considered it and then me, questions in her eyes followed by the hint of smile on her mouth. She cocked her chin for a moment and I could hear her breath echo off the walls as she laid it carefully on the blanket before lifting out a bag of food, fruit, cheese, and crackers.