Read Cherry Bomb Online

Authors: JW Phillips

Tags: #romance, #erotic, #love, #betrayal, #bdsm, #bbw, #younger man, #older woman, #single parents, #parents and single life

Cherry Bomb (4 page)

BOOK: Cherry Bomb
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I leaned over, and for the first time brushed
my hand over her soft skin as I pushed her hair behind her ear.
“There is nothing abusive and controlling about BDSM. It’s no more
than two people trying to discover what makes their souls
soar.”

“You wouldn’t force me . . .” She coughed and
corrected herself. “You’ve never forced a sub to do anything she
didn’t want to do?”

Oh, Beautiful, I will do more than force
you.
“I’ve never forced a woman to do anything she didn’t want
to do. I’m just very gifted at getting her to do whatever I
desire.”

“What do you desire? Power.”

You.

“I do love the power exchange between a sub
and her Dom. Having a strong woman release the power in her totally
for my enjoyment is a feeling like no other.” I eased down on the
couch until I was next to her and nudged my nose in her hair. “Do
you want to know power, sweet Cherry? Do you want to know what it’s
like to call me Master?” I whispered in her ear. She shivered.

“I could never let you hurt me?” she said,
her voice came out in a soft stammer.

We sat there in silence, me breathing in her
scent. I didn’t know what she was thinking. I just knew that Cherry
Webb excited me and scared the hell out of me all at the same damn
time.
Pain and Cherry.
Think, Drake.

“Parts of BDSM does involve pain. Some people
thrive on it; both subs and Doms. But that’s not all it is. Do you
read?”

She nodded and involuntarily tilted her head,
giving access to her long, graceful neck. "It’s not all kink,
depraved, and dirty.” I lightly placed my lips on the vein
throbbing in her neck and kissed it. “In your books, when the hero
makes love to the woman and holds her hands above her head while he
fucks her and sucks her breast, that is straight up BDSM. However,
people don’t want to admit that they may actually like to dip their
toes in the muddy waters of this lifestyle. You would be shocked to
see me in my everyday life. I have people I see on a daily basis
that would never dream I would step foot in a place like this much
less own it. I bet if you dig deep enough, the thought of being
controlled and letting a man have total ownership of your pleasure
causes your skin to tingle.”

I moved back from her. She was aroused, and
the smell coming off her was intoxicating. I would never risk
feeling for a woman.

“People BDSM in everyday life, they just
don't recognize it. I'll give you an example. Two girls share an
apartment. One wants to go out clubbing, so she persuades her
friend to go. That's straight up domination and submission. Here's
how so. The clubbing friend knew her friend, once there, would have
a great time. She just needed a wee push to get her out, dominance.
The other one wanted to use the excuse she was persuaded into it
when really she knew she would go anyway, submission.” I got up and
shrugged off my sports coat, hanging it over the back of the couch.
“Want something to drink?”

She nodded. I walked over to the bar and
dropped two ice cubes into a glass. “Water, please,” she said.

I poured my favorite whiskey over the ice and
fetched a bottle of Evian water out of the small fridge under the
bar. “Do you understand now?”

When I turned around she had her arms wrapped
around her sensuous frame. She looked out over the horizon. The sun
was setting, causing it to cast a sea of colors over the polished
hardwood floors. She was watching a mirror across the room as if it
were a prism when she got a glimpse of the numerous hooks dangling
from the ceiling. She flinched and scooped up the fallen set of
questions moments ago she had disregarded.

“I still don’t understand. How can you
classify the act of passionate lovemaking with the same act that
uses chains and belts?” she asked then sipped on a bit of
water.

I sat across from her and crossed my legs,
resting my glass on my left knee. “Take the couple in the novel
that we talked about.” I held up my index finger to emphasize the
point. “B is for bondage. He held her hands together. No, not with
handcuffs, but with the force of his own hand.” I held up my first
two fingers. “D is for domination. He’s in control and being the
dominating one.” I held up a third finger. “S is for submission.
She is submitting under his control.” I leaned forward and smiled
as she rubbed her thighs together. “Submitting is often an amazing
aphrodisiac, Mrs. Webb,” I whispered. She wiggled and adjusted the
papers in her lap. Not to get her to crawl totally up in her
self-made shell, I held up a fourth finger and continued. “S and M
is for Sadism and Masochism. That is the missing element in my
little anecdote. But it does not have to be in this lifestyle at
all. It’s the extreme that people focus on. But it’s only a small
sliver of what our lifestyle is about.”

“What is it about then?”

“The best lifestyle in the world. First you
have to have complete and honest communication with your partner.
Name one couple in a vanilla relationship that has total trust,
feels completely safe, and has the utmost respect for each other.
Those are the basic fundamentals of BDSM.”

“But no love?” she asked, and started to tap
her pen against her opened notebook.

“Who needs love?” Somehow, I still don’t know
how, but I managed to curl my lip in to some semblance of a
smile.

“Have you ever loved someone special?” She
stared down at the notes in her lap and knotted her fingers around
her pen.

“I’m incapable of love.”

“You’ve never loved anyone?”

“You can’t love what you can’t have.”
You
have to have emotions to love. I won’t risk feeling for
anyone.

“You can have most anyone.” Her voice was so
soft my ears barely registered a sound.

Except, sweet. I didn’t get to have someone
like her. Sweet and innocent. “Can I have you, sweet Cherry?”

She scooted to the curve in the sectional.
The silence was deafening. I stood up to replenish my drink when
the sight of her curling one long piece of hair around and around
her pinky caught my eye. I couldn’t stop watching her as she
studied her prewritten questions. She cleared her throat.

“What led you to discover the BDSM
lifestyle?” she asked, looking up at me with a look of pure
innocence.

“I think we’ve already covered that question,
but the short answer about who led me to this amazing lifestyle is
Billy.” I started to tell the story when the familiar chime of the
intercom buzzed.

“Master, your class is ready to start when
you are,” Kelly announced. I glanced back at Cherry who looked
shocked and stunned. I had purposely planned the interview close to
one of my beginner’s classes, knowing that unmet expectation was a
big turn on for most women. However, I didn’t want it to end. I
found myself fascinated with each of Cherry’s facial expressions,
the way she twisted just about everything through her fingers, the
nervous little twitch of her ear. I wanted more of her.

“Cherry, I really have to go. Would you like
to sit in? It’s a class for beginner Doms,” I asked and put back on
my sports coat.

She started gathering her stuff together and
shook her head. Damn, I didn’t want her to leave. “Tomorrow night,
I have no other commitments. Say around seven?”

She laid her briefcase in her lap and smiled
up at me. For that brief moment, I swore my long lost frozen heart
thawed. “Seven, sounds great, Mr.” She paused and held out her hand
to shake mine.

I almost let my name slip, but luckily
regained my facade. “Seven, Mrs. Webb.” I brought her hand to my
lips and softly kissed it.

Cherry Webb

 

 

Meet me at the Pier. Good things always seem
to happen at the Pier and you, Mrs. Webb, are a GOOD thing. Yours,
Sir

 

I stuffed the card back into the daisies it
was safely nestled into. Sir might be a mystery, but he was making
it a gift worth opening.

After a hair appointment at my favorite
salon, an hour in the makeup chair, and seven outfit changes, I was
finally ready to meet Sir to finish our interview. I know it was a
professional interview, but nothing had felt more personal. I was
as nervous as my wedding day. For the first time in years, Sir made
me feel simply like a beautiful woman - a woman that a man could
desire.

Sir said to meet him at seven sharp and
something told me he expected his orders to be followed to the
letter. Despite my need to hurry, I drove to the restaurant at
exactly the speed limit. My stomach was churning fast enough to
make up for my lack of speed. When I arrived at the restaurant, I
giggled.
Why?
I had no idea, other than my nerves were
shot.

I walked in not knowing what to do. Would he
be waiting for me? Was I to wait for him? So I was immediately
shocked when the attendant knew who I was and ushered me to the
back room Sir was already waiting in.

“Good evening, Mrs. Webb.” He clasped my
hand, bringing it to his lips. “Your name might be Mrs. Webb, but
stunning is what I want to call you. You look simply
breathtaking.”

I instantly blushed and felt my cheeks burn.
He was the one that took my breath away. He was wearing a pale red
twine suit with a gray flannel shirt accented with a dark gray tie.
It was a suit I would normally classify as nerdy, but Sir wore it
with a flair that turned it into pure sex appeal. “Thank you,
Sir.”

I didn’t feel stunning at all, more
impoverished. Compared to the other women I passed by in the
restaurant. They were dripping in jewels and wore only the finest
of clothes. I’ve never eaten anywhere so swanky. We ordered, and I
got the feeling that the crew knew who Sir was, and they gave him
the respect he deserved. He smiled and waved the waiter away.
“Where were we? Oh, yes, how I came to be a Dom. First of all, I
truly believe I was born for the role, but my first experience in
this world was thanks to my brother, Billy. He is older than me and
opened the first Dungeon when I was still wet at both ends. So he
saw it fitting for my eighteenth birthday to have a small party for
me there.”

I gasped at the thought that someone would
think it was normal to take an eighteen-year-old to such a place.
Sir laughed.

“My family is not the normal family. We have
different views on most subjects.” He smirked. “Sex has never been
a subject my family hid from.”

A woman suddenly barged into the room. Her
blonde hair was pulled loosely into a side braid; a black streak
interrupted the smooth wave of the curl falling down the side of
her face. I tried not to stare, but she made it impossible. She
wore her confidence like fine diamonds. Her steely blue eyes
targeted my grotesque self before she turned back, and placed her
hand on Sir’s shoulder. “I didn’t expect you tonight, Master.”

It didn’t escape me that she called him
Master, not Sir. Master was reserved for his submissive. Sir’s
sharp, harsh voice drew my attention. “It was not for you to know.
This is for pleasure, not business.”

I sat up straight in my seat and blossomed
under Sir’s watchful glare. He said pleasure, not business. Did he
mean it? Or was it a tactic to get rid of Mrs. Beautiful, Classy,
and Overbearing. Surely, he wouldn’t pick someone like me over
someone like her.

“Cherry,” he gestured to the slim, fit
blonde. "Meet Jenny.” He gestured back to me. “Jenny, my date
Cherry.”

She extended her hand out to shake mine in a
well-practiced, cold move. Her hard, severe face lit with a sudden
interest. “Sir, I didn’t know you dated?”

I gulped, beaming at the shift in greeting
from Master to Sir.

Sir grew ever impatient. “You only know what
I want you to know. Which is very little.”

“Oh.” Jenny glared at me once more. “Have fun
on your little date.”

I was amused at how her speech was so polite,
but still how each word dripped with insult. It had to be a talent
she was born with. I could never have learned it. No matter how
much I practiced.

“It was still good to see you.” Jenny kissed
Sir’s cheek and then proceeded to rub her lipstick off with the pad
of her thumb. “Sorry, to interrupt,” she added before leaving.

“Sorry about that, I meet a lot of people
that if tied to a spanking bench, spanked until their asses are red
and sensitive, then fucked senseless would do them a world of good.
She is one of those people.”

“Does she know your name?” I was getting too
wrapped up in that man, and the fact I didn’t even know his name
perturbed me.

“No, she doesn’t. Three people at the club
know my name. Billy, Kelly the office manager, and my first.”

He held up three fingers, and I copied him.
He laughed. “Put the fingers away because you’re really making me
want to bite them.” Any trace of humor was void from his face.
“Hard.”

I pushed my hands under the table and rounded
off my shoulders. The stare he glared at me let me know I could
easily submit to his every whim.

“Now where were we? Oh, yes, my first night
at The Dungeon. Billy blindfolded me before we even entered the
building. He led me down three sets of stairs. I’d been before.” He
raised an eyebrow. “Only when it was closed. We run a respectable
and legal business.”

He started to tap his fork against the table,
obviously agitated. It was shocking that I could make a man like
Sir nervous.

“I knew we were in the party room. It’s
unreal what having a sense taken away does for the other four. They
go in hyper mode.”

“The party room?”
Yes, I couldn’t keep
up.

“It’s a large room in the basement where
different scenes are set up for groups to use.” He placed his hand
over mine. “Now, no questions. Listen. He backed me up to a hard
beam and tied my hands and feet to the wall. He left. Anticipation
is the biggest aphrodisiac.”

BOOK: Cherry Bomb
4.78Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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