The Agreement (46 page)

I breathed in deeply as the sensations subsided.

"Please, Master, let me come," I said,
my voice shaky.

"I don't think so. I think I'll leave you
in need. Aroused. You'll be all the more aroused by what happens at the
party."

I groaned, wanting to protest, but I remembered
what he had just said to me about submission and so I swallowed my need, my
flesh swollen and achy. He withdrew his fingers from me and stood, leaning over
me, holding me in his arms and kissing me so that I tasted myself on his
tongue.

We stood up, but my legs were shaky and he had
to practically hold me up. He stroked his fingers through my hair.

"You'll be so ready later," he said,
taking my hand and stroking it across his erection. "And so will I.
Perhaps some of your inhibitions will be overcome."

He was hard as rock, his erection trapped behind
the leather pants. I sighed, content to wait and see what he had planned. Then
I watched as he slipped on a crisp white linen shirt, leaving it untucked, and
then his socks and boots. Finally, he pulled on a black tuxedo jacket over top.

He looked amazing.

The drive to the mansion where the fetish party
was being held took almost half an hour. On the car stereo, Led Zeppelin,
Sunshine
of Your Love
,  played in the background while Drake described what
would happen when we arrived at the home of a wealthy investment banker who
hosted the once-monthly exclusive and very private dungeon party and fetish
night.

"Will we wear masks?" I asked, a bit
nervous. "Master?" I added, catching myself.

"No need for this party," he said.
"These people will be more afraid of you knowing them than you should be
of them knowing you. These are some of the wealthiest and most powerful
players. I'm already a member of the host's inner circle, but you'll have to
sign a disclaimer, agreeing to keep private anything you see at the party, not
revealing any names to anyone, and if you see anyone on the street, you'll
ignore them unless you're in a social situation and it demands that you
acknowledge them. This is to protect the people who attend, many of whom are
very powerful people and could be harmed if word got out about their
involvement in BDSM."

"What if someone knows me?" I said,
still nervous.

He reached out and touched my lips with his
finger.

"Master," I said quickly. "Who is
the owner? Would I know his name?"

He shook his head. "No. Just a very
powerful banker with lots of money he made himself. He doesn’t run in your
father's old money circles. You might see his name on the Forbes 500 list, but
not in the news. These people are very private."

"How did you meet him, Master?"

"Someone who knew him and knew me
introduced us and I got an invite. After he watched me for a while, I was
offered membership. Lara is a member as well. She may even be there
tonight."

"Master, Lara will be mad that we're together."

He nodded. "I've smoothed things over with
Lara."

"Are these all the kinky types from the one
percent?"

He laughed at that but then he reached over and
touched my lips with a finger. "Remember your manners, Katherine. You're
being a bit lax because of excitement but I can't be lenient tonight as I
usually am. If you disobey me in front of my very powerful and wealthy friends,
I'll have to punish you."

"I'm sorry, Master. I'll do better."

"They're not all from the one percent. Some
are there simply because they're good at what they do, kink-wise. Like Lara.
She has several very powerful submissives, which is why she's invited. Men who
run this country, but who like to be dominated in the bedroom."

We drove through a heavily wooded area in
Yonkers to a mansion set high on a hill, surrounded by a security fence with
remote control cameras spaced along the perimeter. A guard at the gate accepted
Drake's ID and checked his name on a list and then waved us through.

My heart rate increased as we drove to the front
entrance. A valet opened my door and helped me out. Then Drake came to my side
and took my arm. He handed the valet his keys and we walked in the front door,
into a luxurious foyer done all in rich marble and mirrors, a huge crystal
chandelier in the center of the room suspended from a vaulted ceiling. Drake
pulled an invitation out of a pocket in his overcoat and handed it to a
shaved-headed security guard dressed in a business suit, a wireless earphone in
his ear. The guard examined it and then checked me out, eyeing me up and down.

"She's new, Sir?"

Drake nodded.

"Sir, she'll have to sign," the guard
said. He pointed inside the entry to a table set up with an older brunette
dressed in a black corset and mini skirt, thigh-high stiletto boots. She wore
no collar. We went to the table and the woman smiled at us.

"Master
D
," she said, making
eye contact with him. I took it from how she greeted him as an equal that she
was a Domme.

"Mistress Innes," he replied.
"Good to see you again."

"You know the procedures. Your submissive
will have to sign." She handed me a sheet of paper and a pen. "You
can read it over there and sign. I'll get one of the Attendants to
witness."

Drake led me to an ornate side table with a
chair that had a tapestry seat. I sat and read over the document, which was as
Drake had described it. "Master," I whispered. "Is this legally
binding?"

He nodded. "
This
is. It's a
non-disclosure agreement. The Attendant is a notary public and can legally
witness. You break the agreement's terms, you can be sued."

I signed and dated the document.

The Attendant was collared and dressed in
leathers, his torso bare except for straps that crossed his chest. He wore a
black leather hat and huge leather boots. Tattoos marked his chest and arms.

After he introduced himself, he turned to me.
"You understand that you are now legally obliged to keep secret what you
see here and the names and identities of those who you meet?"

I nodded. The Attendant signed in the
appropriate spot and pointed to a room off the left. "You can leave your
coats and overshoes in the coat check. Fetish wear is required. If you have
none, you will be able to choose from what is in stock or else you'll have to
leave."

Drake nodded and we went to the coat check.
Drake removed my coat and handed it to a scantily dressed coat check girl who
also wore a collar, indicating her status as a submissive.

"Thank you, Sir," she said. She took
my coat and hung it up. Drake removed his overcoat and suit jacket and handed
it to her as well. He pointed to my feet.

"Take those off," he said. I hesitated
for a brief moment but then removed my boots.

"Master, what do I wear on my feet? I
forgot shoes."

"Nothing. Submissives wear bare or stocking
feet."

I raised my eyebrows at that. He smiled.
"It's psychological."

I nodded. The coat check submissive gave Drake
four tiny tokens. "Sir, you're aware of the two drink per person
maximum," she said. "Drinks are being served at the bar. The dungeon
is downstairs, but there are stations set up around the main floor for
demonstrations. There's dancing in the ballroom. Have an enjoyable evening,
Sir."

She smiled at us and pointed to huge ornate
double doors.

"Thank you," Drake said and took my
hand, leading me through the doors and into another world.

We stood just inside and took in the scene.
Perhaps fifty people stood around in small clusters, men and women dressed in
leather and latex, some with collars on, various body parts exposed depending
on their status as Dominant or submissive. Classical music played in the background
from a small trio of a pianist, a violinist and a bass player. All wore fetish
wear.

"These people are the movers and
shakers," Drake said as he stood behind me, one arm around me, resting on
my hip.

"I hope I don't see anyone I know through
my father," I said.

Drake squeezed me from behind. "
Katherine
…"

I closed my eyes. "Oh, sorry.
Master
.
I'm just so nervous."

"I know," he said. "Let's get you
a drink. I need you relaxed but still aware of the rules."

We went to the bar and Drake ordered us two
shots of vodka. We held them up and toasted each other as we always did and
shot them back. Then Drake kissed me after I'd barely swallowed the vodka as if
he wanted to taste it on my tongue.

"This is going to be a great night,"
he said.

We wandered around the main floor, and
surprisingly, I was only introduced to a couple of men with their submissives.
The greetings were short and although friendly, none of the men tried to engage
Drake in any substantive conversation. It seemed as if everyone was here for
the show. At various places on the main floor we saw what looked like home-made
gymnastic equipment – a re-designed miniature pommel horse, a narrow
balance-beam like structure and a wooden X on the wall with manacles at the end
of each of the arms. There were tables with whips and floggers and everywhere,
there were spray bottles and towels. It was like a gym or exercise room mixed
with bondage gear, set against an eighteenth century salon with ornate
furniture and a huge marble hearth.

I shivered. This was the BDSM that I had a
difficult time accepting, but these people were submitting to this and doing
this because they wanted it. For whatever reason, pain and humiliation and
submission pleased them. These people gave each other what they needed and could
get nowhere else.

"Why do these people like this? All of this
– domination, submission, pain and humiliation, Master?"

"
These
people, Katherine?" he
said, his eyebrow cocked. "You happen to be one of
these
people
now. Maybe you're not into pain or humiliation, but you're into submission.
It's not illegal so don't judge, Katherine.
Understand
."

I thought about Drake, and how he needed
control, sexual control, over his lovers. How he enjoyed having me tied up and
completely helpless. Was it because he was afraid a woman wouldn't allow him to
do what he wanted unless she was completely tied up? Or was it the trust, as he
said?

It was hard to know. I tried to connect the dots
in his life – his failed marriage, the restraining order, the bondage,
the sexual control. Was it as simple as him feeling this was the only way to
keep a woman? Tie her up and make her come over and over again?

As if he could sense my unease, Drake led me to
a couch by a huge bay window and sat me down, while he remained standing in front
of me.

"What's going on in that mind of yours, Ms.
Bennet?"

"Master, I was just wondering why people
are attracted to BDSM. Why you are. Why I am."

He sighed heavily. "In the end, does it
matter? I've tried to understand why I am. Understanding why doesn't change
things. I still want it."

"So you understand why, Master?"

He looked away, inhaling deeply.
"Perhaps."

I didn't push for any answers. It wasn't my
place to ask. He'd tell me if he wanted me to know but I doubted he did. I had
a suspicion. All his life, he'd been abandoned by women.

His mother left him when he was ten and then he
had a succession of nanny and housekeepers. He would get close to them only to
have them leave again. Then, he married and his wife left him. That had to be
the reason. Was it that simple?

Was Drake that easy to understand? He tied up
women and controlled their sexual response as a way of feeling control for
once?

A surge of affection for him went through me as
he stood in front of me, so attractive in his leather pants and white shirt,
his hair a bit mussed as always, his blue eyes intense.

I
wanted
to submit to him fully, to give
him whatever it was he needed to feel. I felt so bad at what I’d said to him in
the Bahamas when I tried to leave him, abandoning him as well like all the
other women in his life.

But this thing between us was so dangerous. If
Dawn found out…

I shoved that thought to the back of my mind. I
smiled at Drake and was rewarded with a beautiful smile back.

"I'm just glad to be here with you tonight,
Master," I said, emotions filling me for this beautiful man with a need to
tie me up and dominate me. "I'll do whatever you want me to do."

He reached down and took my hand, pulling me up
and into his arms. "You make me very happy, slave."

He kissed me and it was a purely tender kiss,
his lips soft on mine, his fingers threading through my hair, one hand on the
small of my back, pulling me against him.

Then, he pulled away and brushed hair off my
cheek. "But we're being observed. We have to do something public to merit
participation in this evening. It also puts us at as much risk as others. It’s
the only way we'd be trusted to keep identities secret. I'd like to demonstrate
an over the lap spanking of you in public, and then, I'd like to fuck you in
private."