His Little Tart (14 page)

“It’s Alex, dear. I’m not a domme.”

No, but you’re a customer.
She bit it back. Alex had also been a friend the last time she was at Bondage Ranch. “Alex. Sorry.”
Aidan. Think, girl, think.
Part of her wanted to shout “yes” into the phone, and the other part of her wanted to run. She hadn’t known he was in town. He hadn’t called her, and surely he could have found her number if he’d wanted to. She was on the web.

And if he came and brought a date, she would just die.

“That’s a long pause,” Alex observed. “I’ll see what I can do. No guarantees. He might be out of the country for all I know. If I can’t get Aidan, you want me to find another dom for you?”

Constance took a breath. She’d assumed that Alex knew Aidan was around before she asked the question, but obviously not. “Um, I’m not just catering?”

“I was thinking you might want more. I was talking to Laera and Sam, and they both agree they haven’t seen you at any of the clubs they told you about.”

She bristled at the thought that she was being gossiped about. “That’s none of your business,” she retorted and instantly regretted it. Even if it was true, Alex was trying to be friendly.

But Alex laughed. “I get told that a lot. I’ll invite a dom for you, and if you don’t like him, I’ll be surprised. But of course you won’t have to do anything with him.

However, you are expected to dress appropriately for a gathering of kinky adults.”

“And how would that be?” Her mind reeled. Her chef’s uniform had served her as armor in the past, setting her apart, stopping her from being part of the group. But obviously, Alex wanted something else. And what was that about inviting a dom for

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her, anyway? She wasn’t going to be set up with just any guy. She’d have to object to that, and soon. But she didn’t.

“You’ll have to do your best,” Alex replied with glee. “If you don’t, I’ll have a strong man take your clothes off you until I’m satisfied. Naked always works if you can’t come up with something else. Seven o’clock, Friday, my place. I’ll see you there!”

There was a click, and silence. Alex had hung up.

Damn. She didn’t want a dom there. She wasn’t even sure she wanted Aidan there. Although watching other couples might be all too painful. Had she agreed to come? She looked at the number on her phone and hit the button to dial the number back. She’d just say no to the whole idea, she decided. Alex was too pushy.

By the second ring, she was thinking about Alex’s threat. A strong man stripping her naked. Her nipples tightened. Her pussy tingled. The strong man she imagined was Aidan. He wouldn’t stop there. He’d spank her. Probably in front of everyone.

She set the phone down and punched End Call. She needed to think this over.

But first, she wanted some release.

She kept thinking it over all week. On Thursday, she bought a blue merry widow and matching panties but failed to find the perfect dress. She put it on her credit card, which she tried very hard not to use, but there wasn’t any money left in her bank account. She hadn’t bought anything for herself since the vibrator, however, and she felt the universe owed her something after all her hard work. If only her bank agreed.

Friday night found her standing in her new undies, eyeing her selection of dresses doubtfully. She wasn’t sure that she had anything entirely suitable. A wicked grin formed on her face. If she didn’t, then Alex would have to follow through on her threat.

And that might be kind of fun. She turned away from the dresses and grabbed a loose pair of jeans. She smirked. She’d wear that with a T-shirt and a sweatshirt over that.

Hopefully they’d stop when they got to the underwear.

 

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She was getting turned on at the thought that they might not.

The phone rang. She glanced at the number. Ben. That calmed her ardor quickly enough. “Yes?” she asked, trying to keep the annoyance out of her voice. Ben would so not approve of what she was doing.

“Hi, Constance, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

Her mouth felt dry. Not that he often had good news, but how much worse could it be? She had sometimes entertained hopes that he’d made a mistake, that he would call and tell her she was owed a few thousand dollars back or something, although she knew that was silly. Ben was precise. He didn’t make that kind of mistake. “What kind of news?”

“I just did your quarterly computation. You owe thirteen hundred, twenty-six dollars, and forty-nine cents to the IRS. By Wednesday. I can run over now with the form, and we can get it mailed off first thing in the morning, but you’ll need to write a check from yourself to your business to cover it.”

All the blood rushed out of her head, and for a moment she felt as if she might faint. That was it, then. She couldn’t write a check for that kind of money. And no bank would loan it to her. She’d owe late fees, at best. She’d have to start selling some of her equipment to pay it off. And then she wouldn’t be able to make all the things she loved to make and that customers loved to buy. She was finished.

If only I hadn’t bought the underwear.

But that was silly. The sixty bucks or so she’d spent at Target were not going to make a difference with that sort of bill.

“No.”

“I’m sorry?” asked Ben.

“No. I’ll deal with it in the morning. Not tonight.”

“But Constance…”

 

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“No.” She was going to have one last night of fun. She was going to throw caution to the wind. Then she’d pack up the business and find something else to do. She could get a job in someone else’s bakery. In DC or Baltimore, maybe.

“What else would you be doing on a Friday night?” asked Ben.

Ouch.
Then she smiled slightly. If only he knew. “I’m sorry; I expect to be tied up for most of the evening.” She barely resisted a giggle. She had a feeling if she started, she’d be laughing hysterically. She wanted to cope better than that. There was no guarantee anyone would tie her up, anyway. But there was a chance. She’d let things happen, whatever happened, this night.

Especially if Aidan was there.

“Can I be there at ten in the morning?” asked Ben. He sounded like he was whining.

“Noon.”

His sigh was audible. “Fine.”

“See you then,” she said and hung up before the conversation could continue.

Either I’ll be well fucked, or I’ll have a god-awful hangover. But something is going to happen tonight.

She put on her jeans, T-shirt, and sweatshirt and headed out. She was going to turn up the radio loud, open the windows wide, and try very hard not to think about her future. Or lack thereof.

It wouldn’t be the end of the world to work for someone else, would it? Lots of people did. Most people did. She’d be okay. One thing was for sure, she wasn’t going to marry Ben. If she’d never met Aidan, maybe she’d have considered it, but she had a better idea of what she wanted in a man now. He didn’t have to be big and handsome—although it helped. But she definitely was not interested in going for mousy.

 

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She knocked on the Allisons’ door a few minutes before five, carefully balancing a tin of cupcakes she’d made the night before and a long flat pan with some tarts that were ready to pop in the oven.

Alex answered the door, wearing nothing but a bikini bottom that looked like it was made out of chain mail, although it was golden rather than silver. She had clamps on her nipples and a golden chain that ran from one to the other. Constance almost dropped the cupcakes and tarts, and Alex reached out to try to help and ended up taking them from her.

Constance followed Alex into the kitchen, surprised that the other woman had said nothing about what she was wearing. She’d half expected to be stripped the moment she walked in the door, but Alex, although nearly naked herself, didn’t seem to even notice. A glance showed her some familiar faces from the weekend before.

Mistress Sue was lounging on a comfy chair in a red leather dress, her legs crossed and her feet, in high-heeled red spiked boots, resting on the muscled shoulders of a large naked man who knelt in front of her. Bruce was on the couch, running his hands through the honey-colored hair of Laera, who knelt in front of him wearing nothing but a harness made of ropes. Dylan was resplendent in riding pants and boots, an emerald-green velvet frock coat and an ivory silk shirt with a matching cravat. He leaned back in the other comfy chair, and at his feet was a green velvet pillow. Alex’s place, presumably. Only Samantha, of the submissives there, was not kneeling; in a way, her position was more extreme. She stood at the far end of the room, facing everyone, her hands laced behind her neck. She wore a thong and heels, but nothing else, and in her nipples were silver rings with a crystal—or perhaps a diamond—glittering from each.

Arthur stood next to her, wearing leather jeans and a black ribbed T-shirt that had to stretch to accommodate his muscles. No Aidan. No one, in fact, who wasn’t part of a couple. Constance tried to hide her disappointment.

In spite of Samantha on display, everyone, except for Sue’s sub, turned to her.

 

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“Hey, Constance, hi, hello, good to see you again.” Her mind wasn’t clear enough to make out who was saying what, but it all amounted to the same thing. She tried to smile back, but Samantha’s pose made her nervous, and she was conscious of how very clothed she was. Even Sue was showing a lot more skin. But no one made a move to take her clothes off her. They set her apart, made her not part of the group, and even though she prided herself on her independence, she wanted to be one of the kneeling women. Or even like the displayed one. She wasn’t so sure about the piercings. Were they Sam’s idea or Arthur’s, she wondered? Was that the sort of thing one could be ordered to do? Maybe Arthur had even wielded the needle. The idea scared the bejeezus out of her, but it was hot too.

Alex slipped by, touching her shoulder lightly as she passed, and knelt gracefully in front of her master.

“The tarts need to go in the oven,” Constance said. “But y’all will have cupcakes shortly.”

“Seems like a good time for drinks too,” Arthur said. “Samantha, at ease, and go help Constance with the food.”

“You too, Laera,” directed Bruce.

“May I rise?” asked Laera. What, did she expect to be crawling?

Bruce smiled. “You may.

Perhaps, Constance decided, it was a ritual they enjoyed. Laera looked so at peace.

“Thank you, Master.”

Constance thought she had tasted some of that peace that weekend with Aidan, but it wasn’t the same. It was all intense, and she had felt awkward in a way, because she wasn’t sure she was very good at anything he asked of her. But what passed between Bruce and Laera looked calm and graceful. It was part of their relationship clearly, something they had practiced. She hadn’t thought something like that could last. And yet apparently it had. And Sam and Arthur were married, and Dylan and Alex apparently too.

 

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“You help too, Cliff,” Sue said.

“Mistress?” asked the big man.

“What, you think serving food is women’s work?” Sue had a dangerous look in her eyes, and Constance was very glad the domme wasn’t looking at her.

“No, Ma’am.” Cliff got to his feet.

“You didn’t ask if you could rise,” Sue said with a smirk. “I like the way Laera did that.”

“But…”

She reached forward and did something to his genitals. Constance was curious, but on the whole, she was glad she had only a back view. She could hear Cliff’s sharp intake of breath and knew that whatever Sue had done, it wasn’t pleasant.

“Run along. Constance, since you’re a free woman, feel free to tease the boy. The harder he gets, the more it hurts.”

“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“But he likes it,” Sue explained with a smile. “Don’t you, Cliff?”

He swallowed visibly. “Yes, Mistress.”

Laera put her arm around Constance and steered her into the kitchen, for which Constance was grateful. She wished it was just the girls helping, but she didn’t have any control over that.

“You don’t need to do anything you don’t want to, Constance,” whispered Laera.

“It’s not your job to torture him. It’s Mistress Sue’s. She’s just sharing if you want.”

“I don’t.” Physically, Cliff was gorgeous. She could tell that from the back, and she supposed she’d see the front soon enough. A part of her had thought that what attracted her to Aidan so much was his beautiful body; she’d never thought she’d be with a man like that. But obviously, it wasn’t about that. She wouldn’t take Cliff under any conditions. Did she think less of him because he was a submissive?

 

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It didn’t make sense, unless she was going to think less of Laera and Samantha too. And she didn’t. But the small, short dom she had seen three months ago appealed to her more than Cliff. Heck, she’d probably take Sue over Cliff, if it came to it, although she didn’t feel particularly sexually attracted to the woman or any other woman.

Aidan’s physique was a very nice plus, but it was his personality that reeled her in. The way he assumed control, most of all.

“Penny for your thoughts,” asked Laera. Then she giggled. “Not that I’m concealing a penny anywhere.”

“What makes me want a dom?” She set the oven temperature and turned it on.

Samantha got plates from the cabinet to the side, and Laera got a platter and reached for glasses.