Chapter One
When had paddling a sub’s ass become a chore?
Derrick struggled to keep his boredom hidden. The sub tied to the spanking bench deserved his full attention. Anything less was an insult.
“How are you doing, Tara?” he asked, putting the paddle aside. Tara was one of the waitresses at Club Decadence. Since moving to Austin, Decadence had become like a second home to Derrick. His old friend, Roarke Landon owned the BDSM club.
“I’m good, Sir,” she murmured, letting out a soft sigh as he ran his hands over her bottom.
He smacked one of his hands down on her butt. “Give me a color, sub,” he said in a low voice.
“Sorry, Sir. Green, Sir.”
Usually, the sight of a sub tied down awaiting his pleasure would have his cock hard and throbbing. But he barely felt a stirring as he rubbed her ass. Moving to the small table that held a number of toys, he picked up a Hitachi wand. The cord was extra-long, easily reaching the bench he had Tara secured to.
Derrick parted her labia and ran the wand over her lips. Tara let out a low cry, her body shuddering. She was slick with need and he knew she was close to the edge.
“Wait for permission to come,” he ordered.
“Oh, oh, please, Sir,” she begged.
“You can do better than that,” he said sternly, holding the large head of the wand over her engorged clit. She shuddered, her whole body writhing. Sweat coated her naked body.
“Please, Sir. Please let me come.”
“Not yet.”
“Ohhhh.”
He actually felt a small spurt of amusement, imagining the names she was calling him in her head. As her breathing grew quicker, her hips thrusting up as far as they could, he knew she was near the end of her endurance.
“Please, Sir. Please, let me come.”
“You may come.”
One, two, three seconds and then she exploded, rocking against the bench, moisture coating the wand. Derrick held the vibrating head against her pussy for a long moment, dragging the orgasm out before pulling the head away. He turned back to find Tara lying limp against the bench.
He pulled back her long hair. “Okay, sub?”
She nodded. “Yes, Sir.” She opened her eyes to stare up at him dreamily. “Thank you, Sir.”
“You’re welcome.”
He undid her bonds, wishing he felt more for her than slight affection. Tara would be a perfect sub for him. He could keep his heart out of it, while giving her everything she needed.
But he knew he’d soon grow bored and that wasn’t fair on her.
He helped her sit up, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders as he cleaned up the area. Around him the sounds and scents of Decadence started to filter in. Tara kept her eyes lowered respectfully.
“Master Derrick?” Tara queried as he handed her a bottle of water and a small square of chocolate.
“Yes, Tara.”
“Is there something I can do for you? I mean, you gave me such pleasure that I would like to return it.”
He cupped her chin, raising her face. “Your job is to do exactly as I say, that pleases me. Understand?”
She nodded, disappointment filling her eyes and he felt like an asshole. Sighing, he rubbed her shoulders. “Want me to find you another Dom?”
Tara shook her head. “No, thank you, Sir. Its busy tonight, I should go help Tilly.”
He frowned slightly at the fatigue in her voice. She looked a little too pale for him.
“I thought you were finished for the night.” All the wait staff at Decadence were submissives. They could play after their shift was over or on their night off.
“I am, Sir. But Tilly could use some help.”
“First, I want you to rest,” he told her. “Come, I’ll find a free sofa and you can have a lie down.”
“I don’t need to rest, I have things to do,” she countered stubbornly.
He grabbed her chin again, raising her face as he stared down at her. “That wasn’t a request, sub; you will immediately get off that bench and follow me.”
Swallowing heavily, she dropped her gaze immediately. “Yes, Sir. Sorry, Sir.”
That was better.
Derrick turned away, not looking back. When he found a free sofa in a quiet area of the club, he made her lie down then he spread the blanket over her.
“I’m going to get you a drink,” he told her, something with sugar. “Do not move.”
He strode over to the nearby bar area where Alex and Dylan stood chatting. Dylan, who was an ex-marine and built like a tank, ran the club. Alex, a soft-spoken man with a backbone of steel, looked after the staff.
The bartender, James, was pouring a drink for a Domme at the other end of the bar.
“Everything okay?” Alex said. He was the ideal Dom to take care of the subs who worked in the club, he had endless patience, but he knew when he had to push.
“Yeah, Tara just looks a bit pale for my liking. She wanted to come back to work. I want her to rest for a bit.”
Alex frowned. “I’ll take her some orange juice and check if she’s okay.”
Dylan nodded, his gaze caught on Tilly, a pleasantly curvy, shy sub, who was currently cleaning tables; her shoulders slumped and head down.