Whats Your Pleasure (7 page)

Chapter Seven

Time for a bit of shopping, Joe thought as she perused her scant wardrobe. Tomorrow night, Vince had rented out the bar for a private wedding reception. Apparently, the couple was no ordinary couple. Not only would they legally marry, but the groom planned on collaring the bride during the reception.

Despite her need for independence, Joe found the idea of ‘belonging’ completely to one man appealing. To be able to trust another person so completely, to be free of making decisions, to be so devoted to another. Suddenly, Joe felt a familiar warmth spreading deep in her body, and an image of Vince standing naked in her room popped into her head.

Hell
, she thought.
I’ve probably blown all chance with him after the way I freaked out. I’ll be lucky if he ever looks at me again.

Sighing, she grabbed her bag and headed for the stores.

* * * *

Standing in front of her mirror, Joe applied the last touches to her make-up. Then stepping back, she critically viewed her image. She had styled her short, blonde hair so it fell in loose waves above her ears, showing off her dangling, gold hoop earrings. The V-neckline of her sapphire dress was low enough to show a bit of cleavage, but not so low as to be overly sexy. As she swivelled her hips, the flowing hem of the dress swirled around her knees. She smiled as she admired the gorgeous shoes. Since she would be on her feet all night, she had opted for sensible, two inch heels, but the tiny rhinestone ankle strap suggested mischief.

Thank God for Alicia
, Joe thought. She had wandered for hours in various stores, unsure what to wear to such an event, so in desperation, she had called her cousin, Alicia Devonshire. Alicia had suggested something classy with just of touch of sexy. Alicia, who had moved to London three years earlier, had chosen an alternative lifestyle as a registered sex slave to her husband. After losing both of her parents and discovering her first husband was gay, Alicia had walked a hard road. In truth, when Joe had heard of Alicia’s lifestyle choice, she had been appalled. However, after flying over to London for the wedding and meeting the handsome Maverick Devonshire, her doubts had been assuaged. Technically, he was Alicia’s master, but it was obvious to Joe he also loved and adored his wife. Joe smiled, recalling the glow of contentment and joy on Alicia’s face. She wished her cousin nothing but the best, but couldn’t quite stop a slight stab of jealousy.

* * * *

Vincent had just finished carrying in the last iced bucket of sparkling wine. Bruce, the groom and an old friend from high school, had sprung for a locally produced vintage so all the guests could toast the happy couple. When Joe walked into the bar, Vincent almost swallowed his tongue.
Holy Shit!
The woman looked phenomenal in a dress.

“Hey, Boss Man, you already sipping the bubbly?” she asked with a twinkle in her eye.

“What? Oh, no, it’s just that…you…um, you…well—” He broke off, cleared his throat and tried again. “You look beautiful.”

She blushed.

Vincent’s jaw dropped. Joe was actually blushing. Quickly, she turned away, straightening glasses and napkins. Vincent grinned.
So the lady doesn’t know how to handle a compliment.
Interesting.

Joe busied
herself
behind the bar. Soon enough, guests began arriving. Vincent lowered the shades and put up the ‘Closed for Private Engagement’ sign. He manned the door, making sure only invited guests entered. At last, the place was filled.

The groom, dressed in a black tuxedo, positioned himself at one end of the bar. Joe wondered why a square of uncooked white rice had been arranged on the floor in front of him. Vincent stood beside him, holding a black velvet box. The other forty or so guests stood in silence. Joe could practically see the excitement sparkle in the air as the office door opened and Beth, the bride, stepped out. The white velvet cloak she wore completely covered her body. With her head bowed, she slowly walked to stand before her groom.

In one swift movement, he untied the beautiful garment, dropping it to the floor. Joe gasped. Wearing only a silver g-string, Beth knelt on the rice. Joe watched in fascination, not sure if she were more shocked by the ceremony or her own gathering excitement.

Beth remained kneeling on the rice, her head bowed, motionless. After several long minutes, Bruce held out his hand. Vincent opened the velvet box and lifted out a beautiful silver choker necklace and placed the delicate collar in Bruce’s hand.

“By accepting my collar, you are accepting my dominance over you. You are accepting me as your Lord and Master. With our friends as witness, you proclaim yourself not only my lawful wife but my willing slave. Willing to obey my word, willing always to be honest, willing to accept discipline, share with me all your fears, all your desires. You do this of your own free will.”

Beth raised her eyes to look at Bruce. She said nothing. She smiled and lifted her hair off of her neck. Bruce nodded, his lips twitched slightly, betraying his pleasure at her gesture. He clasped the exquisite collar around her neck.

Beth dropped her hair and held out her own hand. A woman whom Joe had not noticed before handed Beth a leather belt. Beth folded it and kissed it. She held it up as an offering to Bruce.

“By accepting this gift, my Lord and Master, You are accepting
Your
responsibility to train me as Your willing slave. With our friends as witness,
You
proclaim Yourself not only my lawful husband, but my loving Master.
Willing to shower me with patience, structure and love.
Willing always to be honest, to share with me
Your
desires, Your dreams. Willing to discipline and teach me so that I may grow and we may share in a life of pleasure and joy. You do this of
Your
own free will.”

Bruce reached down and accepted the belt. Beth kissed his shoes. Joe’s eyes widened when Bruce snapped the belt three times. Beth placed her forehead on the ground before his feet, her hands on either side of her head, and raised her bottom. Using the belt, Bruce administered five deliberate lashes to Beth’s backside. The sound of leather hitting naked flesh echoed throughout the otherwise silent room. Joe watched in fascination as five distinct red markings glowed on Beth’s white skin.

“With the exchange of these gifts,” Vincent announced, “and the acceptance of the first markings, this collaring ceremony is complete. If you will all hold up your glasses and give toast to Bruce and his newly acquired slave-wife, Beth? Long may they find their joy in each
other.
”

Joe raised her glass along with the others, catching Vincent’s eye, marvelling at how this unique ceremony touched her. She had witnessed a number of weddings, but none seemed as formal or heartfelt as this total giving of one’s self to another. She watched Vincent’s eyes darken. He tipped his glass in her direction before drinking his toast. Flustered, she automatically returned the gesture.

Bruce, rather than drinking from his glass, reached down to take Beth’s hand. He helped her to her feet and held the wine to her lips while she drank. Only then did he partake of the wine, draining the glass in one gulp. Shouting triumphantly, he scooped his bride into his arms and swung her about to the cheers of the guests. Joe, shaking herself out of her fog, laughed and clapped along with everyone else then got to work.

* * * *

Later, after Bruce had bundled Beth back into her cloak, whisked her away to begin their honeymoon, and the last of the guests had left, Vincent began wiping down the tables. Joe kicked off her shoes and joined him in the cleanup.

“Ouch!” she cried, lifting her bare foot.

Vincent looked up. “You okay?”

“Yeah.
Guess I should leave the shoes on. Just stepped on some rice,” she answered, picking the grains from the bottom of her foot. “How on earth did Beth kneel on this for twenty minutes and not move or complain?” she mumbled.

Vincent, who had moved behind her, placed his hands on her shoulders. “She’s disciplined,” he explained. “The physical pain is a testament. An offering, if you will, to her commitment to Bruce.”

Joe paused as if considering his words before responding. “You know, until recently, if anyone had asked if I believed in all this submissive crap, I’d have called it just that—a load of crap. But after watching the folks at the last fetish night and then this ceremony, I don’t know.” She turned and looked up at Vincent.

“I think…” She licked her lips before she continued. “I think I might be beginning to understand. I wouldn’t be honest if I said I wasn’t fascinated, watching today. When Bruce raised that belt, I thought I would be appalled, but I wasn’t.” She took a deep breath then plunged ahead. “In fact, I was wondering what it would be like to be in Beth’s place. Just thinking about it, well, made me excited.”

“You don’t say,” Vincent commented quietly, his hand tightening on her shoulders.
Keep her talking,
he told himself. “What else makes you excited?”

“A strong man,” she admitted. “Not just physically, but a man who stands up for what he believes in, takes responsibility for his actions. A man who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to go after it.”

Slowly, not wanting to scare her off, Vince ran his hands down her arms.

“Tell me more,” he encouraged.

Her voice suddenly husky, she continued. “I haven’t been with a man in a long time. I mean, discounting the other day with you.”

“Discounting that,” he mimicked, his hands reaching around to grasp her ass. Slowly, he lifted her skirt so he could touch bare skin.

She sighed and leaned against him.

His fingers probed around her silk panties, touching her outer lips. He hesitated, giving her time to protest. She didn’t. Encouraged, he explored her moistened folds, finding her hooded button. He felt her tremble and shift her weight, opening her thighs. Smiling, he flicked her clit then gently began to squeeze, tugging until it became engorged. With his other hand he explored deeper, rimming her tunnel. When he heard her sigh, he dipped first one, then two fingers into her honey. He massaged and manipulated until her juices ran down his hand, saturating her panties.

Vince lowered his head, nipped at her ear and whispered, “I’m going to fuck you, Joe. I’m going to bend you over the bar and fuck you until you scream.”

“Yes,” she murmured.

He
laughed,
a deep rumble in his throat. He spun her around, put his hand on her shoulder and bent her over the bar. He held her there as he unhooked his belt and lowered his trousers, deftly stepping out of them. Still pinning her to the bar, he grasped her sodden panties and pushed them to the floor. As if instinctively, she kicked them aside.

“That’s it,” he said approvingly.
God, she is beautiful.
Her deep blue dress pushed up over her hips, he bare ass shining with her own wetness, her body trembling with desire. Still, he wanted more.

“That’s my girl,” he crooned. He reached for the back zipper of her dress and began to tug. He wanted, needed to see all of her.

Joe’s eyes flew open when she felt his hand on her dress. The icy water of reality washed over her, and she spun around, out of his grasp.

“What the hell?” he shouted.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do this,” she began.

“Like hell you can’t!” he yelled, grabbing her by the arm.

“Vincent,” she stammered, beginning to cry. “You don’t understand.”
How could you understand? I don’t even understand.

“Well, at least you got that part right,” he agreed, giving her a quick shake. “But I’m going to understand, because you’re going to explain to me,”

“No, please, just let me go,” she begged. Joe cried in earnest now. She wanted to tell him. God knew she wanted to, but she just couldn’t risk it. Vincent had sparked her heart and brought her back to life. What would she do if he cringed away from her in horror?

A loud banging on the door caused them both to jump, but Vincent did not let go of her arm.

“What?” he shouted.

“It’s me, Vince.”

Vincent looked down at Joe before answering Nathan. “You
will
tell me,” he ground out. Keeping a good grip on her arm, he went to the front door, unlocked it and allowed Nathan entry. Then he shut and locked the door behind him.

“You remember that intervention we talked about?” Vincent asked, ignoring Joe’s cries of protest.

“Now’s the time?”
Nathan asked.

“Now’s the time,” Vincent agreed.

“What are you two talking about? What’s going on?” Joe demanded. Fear caused her voice to tremble.

“Looks like you lost your britches,” Nathan noted with a grin, completely ignoring Joe.