Role Play (12 page)

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In the elevator, I sneaked looks at Victor on the way up to the penthouse. He seemed perfectly relaxed, while I was jittery and nervous. What could possibly be more extreme than the Chamber?

There was a burly dude with a clipboard at the door. “Victor and Sierra,” Vic
tor told him. The guy checked off something and gestured to the door.

“Where’s the closest bathroom where she can change?”
Victor asked.

The guy gave
me a quick up-and-down look. I felt like a piece of meat that had been assessed and approved. “Down the hall to the right.”

We
stepped into a foyer that was fairly well lit. Ahead was the living room that was much darker, where shadowy forms of people were walking around.

Victor
turned and took me down the hallway to a half-bath. He handed me the messenger bag. “Once you’re dressed, call me and I’ll help you put on the mask.”

Inside,
I pulled out lots of black material, glad to see such a concealing costume. I stripped down to my black sports bra and boy shorts—the barest I had decided I could go while I was still at home and not under Victor’s spell.

The cat suit
was skin tight from the ankles on up. I had a hard time zipping up the zipper in the back, but there was no way I was calling Victor in to zip it for me. Contorting myself, I finally got it all the way up. The high collar was so tight it was barely tolerable.

Looking in the mirror,
my eyes widened at how big my breasts looked. The stretchy nylon really accented my waist and hips, too.

When
I opened the door, Victor stared at me hungrily. I didn’t know what to say to the naked lust in his eyes, so we silently stood there looking at each other.

Then a guy passing by strained to see
in, and Victor stepped between us, glaring at the guy. He stepped into the bathroom, looking mad.

“I hope it’s not too tight,” he said.

“I can barely breathe. But it will do.”

He looked at
me as if waiting for something. So I dug into the bag and pulled out a fold of black leather with lacings. “Is this the mask?”

Victor
took it from me. “Yes. Put your hair up in a pony tail. Right about here,” he said, touching me on the top-back part of my head.

I
pulled out my brush and managed to get my hair into a pony tail despite the vacuum suit I was wearing. Victor kept looking at my gyrations, but he didn’t smile or say anything until I was done.

“Turn to me.” With gentle hands, he fit the head piece across
my eyes and forehead, and over my head. “Hold up your pony tail while I tighten the lacing.”

He was right behind
me, breathing on my neck as he concentrated on the lacings. The headpiece tightened on my head and across my face as he pulled. Every part of my body except for my jaw and hands were bound tightly by him. It was comforting and warm, almost too much. Every movement reminded me of my constraint.

My
vision was cut off on the sides, like a horse wearing blinders. I hadn’t realized how hobbled I would be in the mask.

But when
I looked in the mirror, I was unrecognizable. Even my sister wouldn’t know it was me if I was standing right in front of her. I looked like a plastic fetish doll with exaggerated curves and a high arching pony tail.

“It works,”
I told Victor.

“Yes, it does,” he agreed
fervently.

It was
considerate of him to lend me the disguise. I just hoped I didn’t bust out a seam and ruin it.

Victor waited a moment, looking at
me in the mirror. But when I didn’t say anything else, he abruptly took hold of my hand and led the way as we explored the sprawling penthouse. There were at least six bedrooms on the two floors, and two large living rooms that had views north and east. But the place was sparsely furnished with only a few black couches and chairs, and plain mattresses with white sheets for beds. There were also black padded benches and tables, plus towering wooden X’s like I’d seen at the Chamber.

The glass doors were open to the terraces
with incredible views of Manhattan and New Jersey. The buildings were stacked so close together that only a dip in the height showed me where Greenwich Village was. Beyond, the rooftops rose again to the skyscrapers of Midtown, with the Empire State Building taller than the rest.

I
felt like I was in a movie.

Victor
got plastic cups of wine which we sipped as we watched an older man paddle a squealing, writhing girl. The girl was cute with broad hips and an infectious laugh. I couldn’t understand why she kept laughing in between her cries that begged him to stop.

“Is he tickling her?”
I asked.

“Among other things.
That paddle is wood so it’s pretty heavy.”

The girl seemed to like it, throwing herself into it with abandon
. The skin on her buttocks was blotched dark red amongst the pink.

I
looked sideways at Victor, who was watching the scene with detachment. “Is that what you do?” I asked.

He
finally smiled. “I’d rather use my hands when I spank a girl.”

I
was feeling warmer, just thinking about it. “Does it hurt?”

“It doesn’t have to.”

His hands reached for my waist, pulling me into him. His palm slid down the curve of my ass, cupping my cheek. My hands were against his chest, as his face bent close to my ear. “Like this.”

He smacked
my butt cheek firmly.

“Oh!”
I exclaimed.

I
could tell he could have spanked me a lot harder. He was holding back.

He smacked
my other butt cheek, letting me absorb it. My rear end was tingling as the warmth spread through my lower body.

It felt like
I had been shaken. Briskly.

“That woke me up,”
I said.

“There’s nothing like it when you’re having sex. It makes everything more intense.”

He was still holding me close, rocking back and forth slightly as his hand rubbed my butt, soothing away the sting. I could feel his rigid hard-on pressing against my belly.

“Men are also submissive
,” he said. “Look over there.”

A
man knelt in front of an elegant woman, sucking on her toes. The woman was watching him critically, tapping him with her riding crop to emphasize when she spoke to him.

“The subs also serve their
Doms. They do things to make their lives easier, or to please them.”

I
suddenly wanted to please him, for all sorts of complicated reasons. Not the least was the way his hands felt on me, rubbing and caressing me. I was loving all of this touching. I’d never been touched this much even when I’d had sex, and up until now I never thought about it. But sex was breast squeezing and hip thrusting, and that was it.

I
moved against Victor. “What pleases you?”

“
You
please me,” he said very low, both hands still running up and down my back to my butt, pulling me into him.

Soft moans and cries urging for more filled the air. Everyone wore a secret smile, like we were
getting away with something just by being here. I saw naked people, topless people, people fully dressed or even wearing business suits. But they were all letting go of the roles they usually played and exposing something deeper, rawer in themselves.

I
t felt so right, seeing these things while feeling his hands run freely up and down my body. Feeling him awaken my body in a way I’d never felt before.

And I could feel my own power, moving slowly, feeling him react to my response to his touch.
Hearing his hiss of indrawn breath. Feeling how aroused he was, rubbing himself against me.

Then he spanked my ass again, making me gasp at the sudden, sharp sensation. It sent a shock wave through me, making me jerk in his arms. His hands soothed my skin, running down, stroking me,
sending waves of pleasure through me.

Like it was building to a moment suspended in time
. I had to let go.

The swoon had already
started, the dive and rush of ecstasy, of relief. He pressed his whole body against mine, shamelessly rubbing his thick rod against me. I couldn’t breathe, didn’t care.

It was such a perfect moment, the heady atmosphere carrying
me along in the same ecstatic wave with everyone else. And all I could think about was
this
was what I wanted. To feel his desire. To let go in this moment, and get swept up along with him.

There
was the proof in his burning eyes and how tightly he held me, how firmly he ran his hands over my slick bodysuit. In his harsh breaths, marking every touch.

“Yes, that’s it,” he urged, feeling
me tense in a new way as his fingers sank between my legs.

I grasped his arms, holding on as
the waves went through me, driven by his insistent fingers. He saw everything in me. He touched me in a way I’d never felt before.

His acceptance made it easy for
me to let go, to let him drive me forward with just his touch.

“That’s right,” he murmured. “You’re going to give it to me.”

His husky demand took me over the edge as I cried out, colors bursting behind my clenched eyes. He was rock solid, giving me something to hold onto as my climax ripped through me, spinning my mind away.

Chapter 10

Victor

I loved watching Sierra come in my arms. I loved it that I had taken her there, with only my touch. My voice. She was so responsive to me. She didn’t need the showy scenes that some women demanded in order to be the center of attention. I liked it that she preferred to let go in a quiet corner, unobserved by anyone but me.

She was breathing fast, looking in
my eyes. Then I realized she was very flushed. And couldn’t quite catch her breath.

“Can’t,” she said faintly
. Her fingers hooked into the high collar of her suit, trying to pull it away from her throat.

I
swept her up in my arms and carried her onto the terrace, where a cool breeze was wafting over the bricks. Taking her all the way out to the railing, where the air was moving the most, I asked, “Are you okay?”

“Hot.
Can’t breathe,” she panted.

I
tried to set her down, but her legs collapsed under her. I lowered her to the flagstones. “Let me,” I told her, reaching for the zipper at the collar.

It stuck coming down, the material was stretched so tightly. No wonder she couldn’t breathe.

“You’ll be okay,” I assured her. “I’m just opening this up.”

I was ready to go for my rope cutter to slice through the nylon, but s
he took a deep breath as I jerked, and the zipper came down to her waist. Her hands started clawing weakly at the sleeves, as if she had to get them off. I helped her. They were so tight. Her skin was sheened with moisture and flushed red.

She
collapsed against me, and I leaned against the outer wall of the terrace, holding her. “Catch your breath.”

“I’m still hot.” She pulled aw
ay to peel the cat-suit off her legs. That left her in a black sports bra and boy shorts. And the head mask.

It was more covered up than a lot of people
here, but she had said “no nudity” in her negotiations. I pulled my T-shirt off with one motion. She saw what I was doing and let me slip it over her head. “Better,” she said.

I
pulled her back into my arms, loving how her silky hair felt against my bare chest. Her fingers rested against me, as I stroked her hair, relieved that she was okay. Things kept going wrong whenever I topped her. I hadn’t meant to hurt her, but the way that cat-suit had peeled off made it look like a torture device.

“I hope I didn’t ruin your suit,” she murmured into
my chest. “The next girl you lend it to better be smaller than me.”

My
hand stilled. “I got it for you.”

She peeked up at
me. “Maybe you can get it cleaned and take it back.”

I
suddenly wanted to laugh. “Spoken like a woman who’s done that before.”

“
Hey, it was a dress for a date. And I didn’t have anything nice enough to wear.” She took one look at my face and we laughed together. “Girls do it all the time. I’m always charging back credit for pretty dresses.”

“You work in a store?”

She raised her brows. “At Lowenstein’s on 5
th
Avenue.”

“Do you like it?”

“I’ll like it even better after I get promoted. I’m hoping that happens this fall, after I get my degree. It’s just an associate degree, but it should help.”