Camellia (17 page)

Danny shifted in her seat, and this time it had nothing to do with pleasure as an uncomfortable feeling bubbled up in her gut. There was just something about this man and the woman, something that seemed … well. Danny knew next to nothing about BDSM, so who was she to judge. Still, it felt off. Uneven, somehow. The woman stood alone in the middle of the platform and the man moved back, his body almost completely hidden by a set of dark curtains that had come down to drape one edge of the stage. After a long, tense minute of waiting that made the woman, and Danny, tremble with anticipation, a whip came out of the darkness and landed squarely across the woman's back. She cried out, and Danny gasped as her hands went to her mouth.
That
didn't sound good. Even from the distance that she was at, Danny could see the angry red line that marked the woman's pale skin. Nothing comforting was said, not like when Lucy used the crop on her, before the whip came down on the woman again.

The woman flinched as the whip struck her again, but other than that, she didn't move. Her eyes were open but not focused, and her mouth was pinched shut. Every new blow made her whimper, and she swayed on her feet but managed to stay up. The audience murmured around them, but Danny didn't hear anything they said. She couldn't take her eyes off the woman, who seemed dissociated from what was happening to her. Did she have a word, like Danny had? She had to, wasn't that a rule? Why didn't she say it? Why wouldn't she, how could this in any way be good for her?

"Breathe, Danielle," she heard Lucy say against her ear. The command, so sharp and clear, worked its way into her head, and Danny shuddered and inhaled. She hadn't even realized she'd been holding her breath. But it was Lucy's fingers around her arm, forcing her to her feet, which really freed her from that moment. "Get up, we're leaving."

Danny stumbled as she approached the doors, but by the time they cleared them and then walked across the hallway to an empty salon, she was able to walk normally. She hadn't realized how bothered she'd been until Lucy shut the door for privacy, then pulled a chair up behind Danny and made her sit. Her hands were shaking, and she still felt a little light-headed.

"I don't understand that," Danny said, babbled, really, as Lucy pulled a chair over to sit across from her. "I don't get how that was a good thing, I just don't. Why didn't she say anything? How could he do that do her, why didn't she make him stop?"

"It was a little more extreme than I had expected," Lucy said, reaching out and cradling Danny's hands in her own. "That level of play between a dominant and submissive can be pleasurable for some people, but it certainly isn't for everyone."

"You … you don't like it like that, do you?" Danny asked warily. It was something she had to know, because if Lucy wanted that, it didn't matter how sexy she was, Danny was out. Period. "You wouldn't—I mean, to me, you wouldn't want to do that."

"Not at all," Lucy assured her. "I don't care to go beyond what we've already done, as it pertains to pain. My enjoyment is more task-oriented, watching my submissive get pleasure out of obeying me, not out of taking whatever I feel I can dish out. I promise you, though, that there are those who genuinely enjoy a more intense dynamic, and I'm sure that the people demonstrating were both getting what they wanted out of it. Now, take a deep breath, Danielle."

"I'm fine," Danny protested.

Lucy shook her head. "Honest communication, remember? Your hands are still shaking, and I can see the whites of your eyes. I can help you relax, if you'll let me. And," she added, "I don't recall making it a question, Danielle." Lucy looked at her expectantly.

Danny knew she could say no and Lucy wouldn't push it. If she did, though … that might be the end of this, this
whatever
that was growing between them. Lucy was asking for Danny to trust her, to let her help. And, in the interest of honest communication, Danny did kind of feel like she needed some help. She inhaled, expanding her diaphragm as far as she could, before slowly exhaling.

Lucy's expression was as composed as ever, but her eyes shined with approval. "Lovely. Again."

Danny repeated it, over and over, and with each breath Lucy's hands moved further up her arms, squeezing her skin lightly, taking away her goose bumps. It could have been one minute, it could have been ten, but by the time Lucy's hands were squeezing the tension out of Danny's shoulders, her hands were steady as a rock, and she felt the calmest she'd been all morning.

"Very good, Danielle," Lucy said, removing her hands at last.

"Thank you, Mistress."

Lucy smiled and stood up. "I don't think we'll be returning to that particular demonstration. Dalton is at Camellia, I'll have him bring us over a thermos of my ginseng blend." She removed her phone from a hidden pocket of her outfit and sent a quick text.

"You're gonna ask him to drive all the way over here just to bring us tea?" Danny asked, a little surprised. It seemed like a lot of effort to go to for a drink, and not for the first time she wondered exactly what the deal was between Lucy and Dalton. "We could just get some tea here."

"Dalton had planned to come back this afternoon to assist in taking down Natasha's booth anyhow, a bit earlier won't inconvenience him," Lucy replied. "And my tea is infinitely better than anything a hotel is going to be able to offer us. Ginseng and mint, chamomile and a hint of licorice … it's very soothing, but keeps your energy up. Now." She held out her hand and assisted Danny to her feet. "We'll rendezvous with Natasha and Lillian and pass the time before our next tea ceremony more pleasantly."

Once Lucy seemed assured that Danny could stand on her own without any issues, she let her go. So, that little scene was over, then. It had been nice. Really nice. Honestly, Danny could have gone for a lot more of Lucy touching her, but she wasn't going to complain. She didn't feel like she had the right to, not quite.

How would it feel if I could just ask for more?
Danny thought she knew the answer to that. She'd get greedy. She'd never been tempted to cling to anyone before, but with Lucy it was a compulsion she was barely holding off.
And clinging was so endearing
, Danny thought as she rolled her eyes and trailed after Lucy, trying not to feel too much like a duckling.

"Well, here they are!" Natasha said as Lucy and Danny approached. "You have a nice morning, ladies?"

"An enlightening one," Lucy replied. "But now we're looking for something a bit less challenging. Would you care for some assistance?"

"Always," Natasha said, pointing at the line of four ladies and one man waiting to the right of the booth. Lillian was working with the first one with a tape measure in her hands, holding out swatches of fabric and making notes on a piece of paper. "Those folks need to be measured for custom corsets, and I've got a dozen order details to input into my spreadsheet. My Lillian's good, but she can't be everywhere at once, and I'm trying to keep people from passing us by."

"I'll help Lillian," Lucy said. "Danny, are you comfortable with Excel?"

"Um … a little bit?" They used it at the garage, but Danny had always been more comfortable working on the cars than in the office. Since her dad's accident, he'd been doing a much better job of keeping up with the books, and so her help there was rarely needed.

"It's easy," Natasha promised her. "Everything's labeled, you just have to hit enter after each new number, and it'll take you right down the list."

"Got it." Danny sat down on a sturdy cardboard box, took the orders and the laptop Natasha handed her, and got to work.

It was relaxing, actually. Normal, mundane, exactly the kind of thing that Danny needed after being so damn unsure all morning. This was just business stuff, data entry: boring but simple. There were no surprises here, even if there were a lot more measurements needed for a corset than Danny had expected. Over the bust, at the bust, from nipple to nipple, and that was just for the top to fit right, it didn't even go into how long the actual corset itself needed to be. There was plenty to keep Danny busy, and she didn't even notice how much time had passed before Lucy was standing in front of her.

"It's time for a break, Danny. Dalton brought tea and sandwiches."

"Sweet," Danny said, rolling her neck from side to side to crack it. She was actually kind of hungry now.

Of course, the "sandwiches" were actually tiny little finger foods, lemon pepper turkey or sweet teriyaki salmon pressed between two pretentious seeded crackers. There weren't enough of them to be really filling, not between four people (Dalton abstained), but they went well with the tea, and Lucy seemed to love them.

Before long, it was time for their last demonstration. Lucy pulled Danny aside and gently tweaked her clothes here and there while Dalton readied the table. "How do you feel?" Lucy murmured.

"Fine," Danny assured her. "Ready to do this." The last demonstration, the last tea ceremony, the last—oh. It was the
last
one. Her job was pretty much over after this.

It wasn't an end, though. Danny wasn't going to let it be an end. She wasn't ready to let go of Lucy. She looked at Lucy calmly, and after a moment of searching, Lucy smiled.

"Good, Danielle. Shoes off."

"Yes, Mistress." Danny took the heels off and handed them to Lillian.

"Go up onto the stage and kneel in front of the table."

Just like before, only Danny knew better than to have any expectations this time around. She left the booth and walked slowly onto the stage. The crowd was bigger today, much larger than either of the other times. She ignored them, settled gracefully onto her knees in front of the low table, and started breathing like she'd done before. Slow in, slow out, pretending that Lucy's hands were on her shoulders, firm and reassuring. She could do this. She was good.

After all, her mistress had said so.

Waiting for Lucy wasn't the anxious thing today that it had been last time. When she finally felt a light touch on the crown of her head, Danny suppressed a smile.

"Lift your arms over your head," Lucy said.

Danny immediately complied. Something incredibly soft wrapped around both of her wrists, looping and curving until it was suddenly drawn tight, binding her hands together so that they faced in, palm to palm. The tip of the crop traced a path up one of Danny's extended arms, then down the other, and she had to fight hard against the urge to writhe, trying not to let on just how wet her pussy suddenly was.

"Lower them down," Lucy said, and Danny put her hands back in her lap. They were bound together with smooth black cloth and a simple knot. The rope looked so silky and felt so good. Danny wanted to rub it over her cheeks, her breasts, all her tender places. It would probably feel incredible between her legs … the brisk rap of the crop on her right shoulder brought Danny back into the moment.

"I evaluated your proficiency," Lucy said, tapping all the way down Danny's right arm. "I assessed your willingness," she continued, this time touching the left. "Now I want to see how well you can cooperate, Danielle. Don't let me distract you," she added, sliding the crop down to the small of Danny's back and crumpling the tulle of her skirt with it.

Danny took one deep breath, then another, then reached slowly for the box of tea. She knew all the steps, she had this down cold, and at least she could use her right hand this time. Every move was done with care and precision, Danny's brain fighting her libido for control as Lucy just kept touching her, sometimes no more than the delicate slide of a finger along the back of Danny's neck, sometimes a brief, stinging strike from the crop that always left a warm haze in Danny's mind as Lucy corrected something. A tap to her thigh—Danny adjusted her legs. Another snap across her upper back—posture, she had to remember her posture. Lucy didn't speak and Danny didn't need her to. She remembered the corrections, and she complied as best she could while trying to coordinate both of her hands to do the work of one.

The matcha went into the bowl smoothly, the water followed without losing a drop, and when the time came to mix them together, Danny managed to whisk it vigorously enough that when she was done, she got an actual smile from Lucy. It was small, but real. Danny smiled back and held out the bowl to her mistress.

Lucy bent over at the waist like she had the first time, and wrapped her hands tightly around the ropes on Danny's wrists. They weren't stiff enough to hurt, but Danny loved the extra pressure, the feeling of being tied to Lucy even though she was only really tied to herself.

"You first, Danielle," Lucy directed, and tilted the steaming bowl toward her face. She moved slowly enough that Danny was ready for it, though, and Danny let Lucy set the pace, swallowing the frothy tea with a sense of deep satisfaction. It wasn't that the matcha tasted any better than Danny ever found it, but it was so much nicer to drink it from Lucy's hands.

Nothing spilled and Danny didn't have to back off to keep from getting drenched with hot tea, so she considered it a success when Lucy moved the bowl away and drank the rest of it herself. She set the bowl aside, still holding onto Danny's wrists, then pulled Danny forward. "Beautifully done, Danielle," Lucy said. Praise, that was nice, did that mean Danny got a reward? A kiss on the forehead, maybe another few strokes of the crop—

Lucy's mouth against hers completely derailed Danny's musings, cut off her thoughts and focused everything she was on the feel of Lucy's lips and tongue. Not a soft, chaste kiss this time; this one was carnal, open mouthed and penetrating, bitter and sweet like the matcha. It was fierce and claiming and Danny heard herself moan, and she couldn't have stopped it even if she'd tried. This,
this
—it was perfect, it was everything she wanted. Her hands grasped for Lucy fruitlessly, but Lucy was stronger than she looked, and didn't even waver until she finally ended the kiss and stood up straight.

"I believe we're done here."

With that, Lucy helped Danny get to her feet and led her off of the stage by her bound wrists. There was applause behind them, something that hadn't happened before, and Danny thought giddily that if she could she'd turn around and take a bow right now, because damn
right
, that show had been hot. But Lucy probably thought that bows were improper or something like that, and so instead it was down the steps and back into Natasha's booth.