An Expert in Domination
Loose Id Titles by Sindra van Yssel
Bondage Ranch 7:
AN EXPERT IN DOMINATION
Sindra van Yssel
www.loose-id.com
Bondage Ranch 7: An Expert in Domination
Copyright © July 2015 by Sindra van Yssel
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Image/art disclaimer: Licensed material is being used for illustrative purposes only. Any person depicted in the licensed material is a model.
eISBN 9781623009472
Editor: Jana Armstrong
Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde
Published in the United States of America
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San Francisco CA 94117-0549
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This e-book is a work of fiction. While reference might be made to actual historical events or existing locations, the names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Warning
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Chapter One
Sophia Walker had met Remy—she didn’t know his last name—around a bonfire, and she already knew that he was not the man for her. But he was fun, crazy, and had a nice body. He called himself a primal, which resonated with her. He was an animal when he made love, and there was no pretense. She liked it, even though it was just a fling. When he’d told her about the bonfire at Bondage Ranch and invited her to come along, she thought it sounded fun, even if whips and chains had her only mildly curious.
What the hell. You only live once.
She wanted to experience new things. He’d made it clear he intended to play the field, and that he had lovers there. She’d made it clear that going along didn’t mean she intended to have sex with
him
there. Or probably with anyone else. All she intended to do was watch, do some camping, and maybe take off a few clothes and dance around the bonfire if she felt comfortable enough.
She hoped it would be immersive. She had two children at home, and while she loved them dearly, time away now and then refreshed and invigorated her, and the more “adult” the fun she had, the better she was at being Mom when she got back. Jack and Lana were having a blast at their grandparents, so she knew she didn’t have to worry about them. Nana and Papa would take good care of her precious children. Right now, her job was to relax, have fun, and get home safe.
They got there, set up tents—one each—and helped get the fire going. There are a lot of good-looking guys here, thought Sophia. And a few plain ones too. She spent some time idly admiring a particularly attractive shirtless man with a well-defined chest and six-pack abs. Then a woman sidled up to him, and he put his arm around her. She was a big girl, all curves and no lines, and she didn’t wear a top or even a bra. The way he held her and kissed her spoke of a deep connection. Sophia smiled. She knew she was no size-8 beauty herself, but watching the couple made her feel all sizes and shapes were welcome.
Yes, some clothes might come off this weekend. And that will be freeing. Hopefully I’ll meet some interesting people and get some hugs too, but whatever happens, it will be different.
A drop fell on her shoulder. She looked up and saw the sky blackening.
A tall bare-chested man with a dragon tattoo on his shoulder, who Remy called Dane, seemed to be organizing. Dane surveyed the sky. “Looks like we’re in for it.”
The slender woman with him, who wore a leather skirt and a corset, said, “Maybe we should go inside?”
“A little rain won’t hurt us, Sue,” said Dane.
“Yes, Sir,” Sue replied, but she looked a little chagrined.
Dane swatted her. “Go get inside the tent, and you’ll be my warmth once we have things going here.”
Sue scampered, and Sophia went back to work. It was a race to see if they could get a fire going so strong that the rain wouldn’t put it out. The rain started coming down heavily, soaking her yellow shirt and the thin skirt she wore, making the latter cling to her legs and turn almost transparent. That didn’t bother her any more than taking a shower would. It felt good to be out in nature. Besides, a little water never hurt anyone. She’d had some great times while soaked. Hell, she wasn’t sure she’d have attracted her first boyfriend if it hadn’t been for a wet T-shirt. It had been a good relationship for a while. It just hadn’t lasted.
A big, dark-skinned man came running down the path, looking just as soaked as everyone else. Dane stood to meet him. They had a moment’s conversation, and Dane nodded as he listened. Then he walked over to where the flames licked up from the pile of tinder and signaled for everyone to come close. A score of men and women gathered around him.
“We’ve got to put it out and get out of here. Head inside or go into town. I’m sorry, everyone, but I can’t control the weather.”
“It’s just a little rain,” said one man.
It was hardly a little, and it was getting worse, but other than that, he echoed what Sophia was thinking. For a bunch of people who supposedly liked extreme sex, she was surprised they’d give up so easily.
Dane shook his head. “It is now. But there’s lightning coming. There. Hear that?”
Sophia could hear it. It was distant, a low rumble. She hadn’t seen a flash of light.
“It’s not safe to be out. Sorry, everyone. I’m going to get my girl and drag her out into the rain to get her to safety. The lightning’s still a few miles away, but Diego says the weather report has it moving fast. We’ve got a half hour to douse the fire and get to shelter. If you aren’t a runner, go now.”
Remy moved toward her. He’d been flirting with a topless blonde, and Sophia hadn’t seen much of him. “Go ahead, Soph,” he said, in his soft Louisiana accent. He pointed down a path. “The building is straight that way.”
“All right.” She didn’t like being called Soph, but whatever.
I can run. But I certainly don’t want to try it now without a good sports bra.
She wasn’t sure what she’d do exactly. She hadn’t come for the kinky aspects of Bondage Ranch. She was here for the fire, the warmth, the feeling that her own body was okay with or without clothes. The kink was mildly interesting but nothing to travel for. As she understood it, that was the reason most of the people who stayed in the building were there.
I might be better off heading into town. And besides, I look like a drowned rat.
Her shirt clung indecently to her now, and while she suspected no one had a problem with that, it wasn’t how she wanted to make a first impression, even on people she’d never see again.
She took the path to the parking lot instead of to the building. The rain reduced visibility, which gave her a thought. She had dry clothes in her car, and she could change. And she had an umbrella too. Maybe seeing what the people inside were doing wouldn’t be so bad. And besides, there was a rumbling in her tummy that reminded her she had been working hard and hadn’t eaten that much. Remy had said there were sometimes incredibly good pastries in the dungeon.
I’ll have to give that a try.
She never liked backing away from a new experience. Or good pastries.
She got into the backseat of her SUV and peeled off the wet clothes. She put on a red bra and panties, then picked out a long flowered skirt and an orange T-shirt that dipped low in the middle. After she’d gotten everything on, she looked down her cleavage critically. The bra and the shirt clashed a bit, but not too much of the bra was showing. She shrugged.
It’s better than the all-wet look. And I like it.
She liked cheerful, bright colors, and she was used to being told she clashed. She sometimes wondered if she had no color sense, but despite the occasional criticism, people often told her how bright she looked, so maybe people here would enjoy her sense of style amid all the black leather. Since anything she had was just going to get soaked anyway, she didn’t bother with shoes. Bare feet at least washed off easily.
She half opened her umbrella, pushed the car door open, and then opened the umbrella the rest of the way. As hard as it was raining, she wasn’t sure it was going to protect her, but it was better than nothing.
She ran across the parking lot to where the front awning provided some shelter. There were a couple of people there—a woman with hennaed hair and a black leather outfit that screamed dominatrix was smoking, and a man in leather pants and no shirt was chatting with her. Sophia didn’t care for the smoke, but she wanted to wipe her feet off before she went inside, and there was a mat there for the purpose.
“Hi there, cutie,” said the woman. “Haven’t seen you here before. I’m Valerie.” She stuck out a hand.
“Hello. Sophia.” Sophia shook her hand. “Nice to meet you.”
Maybe.
“Here to see Colby Brock?”
“Who is Colby Brock?” She’d heard the name mentioned at the bonfire as well.
Valerie’s eyes widened. “You don’t know who Colby Brock is?”
“No.”
“Oh, honey. He’s written four books on how to do BDSM. He’s even been on TV talk shows, and he used to write an advice column. Dylan and Alex flew him in all the way from the West Coast to give some demonstrations. They were going to be outside on the stage, but they’ve had to move them in because of the weather.”
So, a hotshot. Probably thinks he’s all that too.
“Ah. Thanks for the info,” said Sophia.
“No problem.”
She walked in and looked around.
One man stood on a stage that had been erected in the middle of the room. He was older than Sophia and most of the people there, his dark hair marked by a streak of gray around the temples.
That must be Colby Brock.
He wore black leather pants that had seen a lot of use and a matching vest. His thick boots needed a shine.
Definitely not my type.
But she was still curious, because she’d never seen anyone quite like him before. There was a grace in him as he stood on the makeshift stage in the middle of the room, flicking his single-tail whip casually toward a black post, missing it by less than an inch each time. And the arms revealed by the vest were muscled and strong. He reminded her of some gay leather porn she’d seen once, and she wondered if he liked girls at all. She found herself undressing him in her mind.
Around the stage, all sorts of people gathered in all sorts of clothes. But leather predominated, along with lots of skin. A few women were in their underwear. One was dressed only in rope. There were some very good-looking men in the room, and almost without exception, they had a woman intimately near them—kneeling, on a lap, or standing so close as to be almost touching.
Don’t want any of them anyway.
She’d been to a BDSM club once. Her impression was that the indoor leather crowd tended to make everything cold. S&M was just sensation to them, and it wasn’t spiritual. They didn’t want to connect with their inside animal selves the way Sophia did. The latex, the vinyl, even the leather was there to heighten the sense that everything was artificial—a scene, and not reality.