Sub's Night Out

Publisher's Note

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

The publisher has no control over and does not assume responsibility for any third-party websites or their content. The uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law.

Copyright © 2012 by K.L. Joy
All rights reserved.

Cover art by Dare Empire eMedia Productions

My heartbeat at twice its normal pace, my face flushed and warm, though I was cool in the night air. I stood waiting, as instructed 'Something sexy, revealing, and definitely no panties,' I was told five days before meeting up with my Sir. This sent my head reeling with the possibilities. I always knew there was a wild streak in me, but what I was about to do tonight surpassed even my teenage exploits. I had spent the days dreaming of what I could do, would do, when instructed. Would I say no at any point, just to feel the sting of the lash? Would I use my safe word? No one had pushed my limit yet, but I had a feeling this Sir could make me.

The time was 10:30; the night chill set my mind to warmer things: the sting of the lash as it landed on my back. I stood outside the house with the porch light illuminating my silhouette under my sheer skirt, the split at the front reaching to the top of my thighs. My boots were knee high and warm. Ample breasts, covered only by a bra and tie-front jacket, my midriff exposed, were saved from the biting cold by my woolen wrap. A car slowed. I recognized the driver as the suave gentleman that had been in my thoughts for the past five days.

I watched him through hooded lids as he got out of his car: his stance and his gait, all familiar, yet to be explored more deeply. Reaching me, his scent engulfed me. He brought my hand up and kissed the back of it, saying, "You should be honored tonight, as I will teach you a new level of submission."

The confidence that he exuded made my cheeks flush, and I turned away. In a soft voice, so uncharacteristic of me, I asked, "Would you like to come in for a drink?"

"Of course, my dear, I would be delighted to prolong your pleasure." His smile reached his eyes, crinkling them and giving him an air of wickedness. Damn. I was hoping he would refuse and go straight to the club. Having made the offer, I opened the door and a blast of warm air hit me. My cheeks felt bright and hot. As soon as we walked into the light, he would see the effect he was having on me and the game would begin in earnest.

Drinks were poured, and we sat in the lounge, partly because of its warmth and partly because of its low lighting. I took a chair opposite the couch, needing some space to collect myself. He sat on the table in front of me, ignoring my lead and invading my space, his aroma, sending shivers down my spine, invading me. He turned and placed the drink I handed him on the coffee table.

"I hope you have obeyed my instructions. It's time to find out." He rested his hands on the inside of my thighs, about half way up, and pushed my legs apart. The split allowed him full access to the area he wished to explore. No barriers. I knew at this point that I would give over control. I did not resist when he pushed my legs and splayed them for his inspection. My hands dropped to my sides, and I leaned back in the chair. A finger trailed up the inside of my right thigh, nail gently pressing against the tender flesh, enough to sting, but not enough to leave a welt. As it reached my pussy, my back arched and my pelvis pushed forward, opening the wetness to his probing. He spread my aching lips and pinched my clit roughly between two fingers sending a jolt through me.
Okay, he's not much for warm up,
I thought as my breath filled my lungs. Before I could recover, two thick fingers were plunged inside me and a groan escaped from my belly as I doubled over. The intensity made me contract enough to push the fingers straight out again.

"Very good. You know how to take instruction." My eyes opened to find him looking at me with approval. "Do you have toys?" The twinkle in his eye told me I had better come up with something.

"I do. Would you like something in particular?"

"I think you should go and get something that can be inserted into your wet pussy, but make sure you can keep it in there. You will be leaving the house with it in and wearing it for a while." As I stood, his hand landed across my ass, shooting pleasure through my cheeks and into my hole.

I moved quickly into the bedroom and, opening the bottom drawer of the bedside table, the toys shifted and a flash of silver caught my eye. The Ben-Wah balls, of course! No, if I were made to squat, it would be near impossible to keep them in. Rummaging through the drawer, I couldn't see any other options—my toys needed new friends. The balls it would have to be! I lifted them out of their case and placed one leg up on the bed, inserting them into my pussy one at a time. The string, I gently placed to the back of my opening to be out of sight if I were exposed. My turn to get one over on him; he would have to wait until later to see what I chose. Just as I was closing the drawer, I saw a butt plug that I had bought for a sub I'd been playing with, but as he was such a tight-ass, I never had a chance to use it. That might give him a clear message. Should I take it? Slipping it out of the drawer, without a second thought, I walked through the kitchen and dropped it into my bag. Another ace up my sleeve.

Two large silver balls now sat firmly against my innermost lips, one next to the other, pressing gently against the walls of my cave as I walked. He was still on the table, and I moved past him as and dropped into the chair, crossing my legs in front of him. A resounding thud came from within me and he looked at me with one eyebrow raised.

"I don't suppose you wish to share what that sound was?"

"No." The smile escaped from my lips.

"We'll just have to see, then." He placed his hands on my knees but this time I resisted; I was ready for the pressure. A frown crossed his face. I knew that I had displeased him.

"You will open your legs to me—now!"

"No," was my meek reply.

"You know what the consequences are, don't you?"

"Yes, I think so." The words were just a breath.

"Well, I think it's time to go, then. You are ready?"

"Yes." My voice, a little stronger this time, was still not showing confidence.

With that, he stood up and walked out the door, leaving me to scamper behind him.

The drive was quiet, no chitchat, I knew punishment for my indiscretion at the house would come later. We walked into the club, Sir leading. I followed with my head and eyes lowered respectfully. The owner was standing by the door. His gaze settled on me, and he knew immediately how to play the situation.

"Good evening, Sir. Pleasure to see you both back again." The two men shook hands warmly while exchanging niceties. All the while, I stood with my hands clasped and head lowered.

"You may speak," were the only words my Sir said to me.

"Good evening, Sir; it is my pleasure to be back," I said to the owner.

Placing his finger under my chin, he lifted my head to make eye contact with me. "You are most welcome. Please go up and enjoy your night." The accompanying wink told me that he knew exactly what was happening tonight.

We walked up the stairs, and at the top, Sir pulled a collar out of his pocket. It was more like a choker necklace than a collar, though; I had never seen anything like it. Chrome plated leather, with a large ring attached to the V at the front. He pulled out a key and removed the padlock off the hooks at the back. He motioned me to turn around, and his arms came down around my head and shoulders. He opened it and placed it firmly around my neck. The lock clicked. Sir's arms moved away from me, and he reached into his pocket to retrieve something else. The weight of the padlock was pulling the collar backwards and placing enough pressure on my throat to make my breathing shallow. The chain lead was a welcome sight. Sir hooked it onto the ring at the front. A sort of balance was struck: tight, I breathed comfortably; loose, and I did not. The handle slipped over his hand onto his wrist and, grabbing the chain, he yanked me into submission.

As I was led by my collar to the back room, my head down and eyes lowered, all I could see were the rows of tea light candles lining the hallway floor. My heart pounding, we passed many doors. A snap, the sharp sound of flesh connecting with flesh, a moan of ecstasy, or was that pain? A crack of a whip brought my senses to a peak. My step faltered on its path slightly. A gentle tug on the collar and I was brought back into line. I knew that my earlier indiscretion was about to come back and haunt me. Which tool would he use to punish me?

We entered the back room of the club, and my eyes lifted momentarily to take in the scene. A large bed stood before me with a stockade built into the bed head; a girl was trapped in it, kneeling, with her bare buttocks protruding. A rather butch woman in uniform stood off to one side with a long cane switch in her hand. As we passed, I thought I saw a large strap- on dildo protruding from the fly of her pants. This girl was in for a ride. The other corner had a lounge; two couples were sitting watching the girl on the bed and fondling each other. To the left of the couch was the dungeon playroom. The only way to enter was through the large barred gate left slightly ajar. The room was filled with equipment: a St. Andrew's cross, complete with rings and cuffs; a pommel horse; and a shelf of 'goodies' like ice and candles. A few chairs were scattered around the room for people to be able to view the proceedings. I knew I was going to be on show, and I was instantly excited!

Having my eyes down cast did not allow me to see detail, though the small amount I was able to glean from my peripheral vision was enticing. Muffled screams and groans of pain, or was that ecstasy? The smell of... what was that smell? Sex, fear, maybe a hint of patchouli or vanilla, permeated my skin. Sir chose a chair—or rather, a throne—to sit in and ordered me to kneel before him. Dispensing with the clothing on the upper half of my body, he pulled another surprise out of his jacket pocket; I wondered how many more things he had in there?