What To Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection Part Two (40 page)

“What are you wearing?” I tried the typical girl turn-around; ask someone else what they are wearing to the party. It didn’t work.

“I’d like to choose an outfit for you, Abby. I can, as your Dom, do that. You will be in submissive role and I’d like you to be in something of my choosing. It would be my pleasure.”

I could hear the smile in his voice; almost see the glint in his eyes as he contemplated me in various types of bondage gear. I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath.

“You want to take me shopping?” I detest shopping.

“No, there’s no need for that. I’ll have a selection sent to your apartment and then you can decide. And surprise me.” There was a definite lascivious tone to his voice.

“Fine. I’ll agree to that…Master.” There was a laugh from the other end.

“I know you’re nervous; I am too. But it’ll be fine. If nothing else, you’ll end up with a new wardrobe for session play and we’ll come away with some good stories. But I think it’ll be good for both of us.”

There was a large box waiting at my apartment door when I got home from work the next evening. It was appropriately wrapped in plain brown paper. I dragged it into my bedroom, gingerly opening the box, not quite sure what to expect.

And I was unprepared for what was inside; some of it leather, all of it black. Much of it, as I looked at it lying on my bed, made no sense; there were straps and buckles and widgets. Nothing seemed remotely like something a human body would wear.

But then I saw it, an outfit I could…
would
wear. It was a black leather corset that laced up the back, with a zipper up the front.
Easy access, Jake. You’ve got it.
And it fit. I put it on.

There was a short black skirt, something shiny, very short. I cringed but put that on as well. It had a zipper that went from hem to waistband. I thought about it for a minute; I wasn’t sure if the zipper went in the front or the back. But then I realized it didn’t matter. Either way would have the desired effect. I put it on with the zipper at the back.

There were at least a dozen pairs of thigh-high stockings in the box: fishnets, lace, sheer…all black. I found a garter, figured out the straps and clips, added a pair of lace-patterned stockings.

My own shoe fetish provided a pair of black heels, ‘fuck-me pumps’ as Leslie was fond of calling them. They added at least four inches to my height and gave me the illusion of having longer, thinner legs… or I hoped they did.

I stood in front of the full-length mirror, something I rarely did. But now, I almost couldn’t walk away.

It was me, only it was more me…and in a good way. The corset pulled me in and pushed me up and out, giving the curves I had more definition. The skirt hugged my hips and ass, and somehow didn’t make them look huge.

And yes, the shoes did make my legs look miles long. Covered in the black lace, they looked pretty damn good.

I wanted to call Jake and tell him, but I really wanted him to be surprised. While I was putting away the assortment of items I was confused about, the phone rang.

“Did you get the box? Did you find something you like?” Jake’s voice was Christmas-morning excited.

“Yes, Jake. I did. And I’m not telling you what I picked out. You’ll have to be surprised.” I was actually going to enjoy this.

“Alright. I guess I’ll have to be patient.” There was a pause, and what sounded like a resigned sigh. “I have a bit of bad news though. My board of directors has scheduled a shareholders’ meeting for next week. I’ll be out of town until early Saturday morning…the morning of our club date.”

My heart sank. “Oh.”
Crap.

“I’m going to miss you, Abby, miss our dinners and talking with you.”

Miss just dinners and talking? Not miss our sessions?

“I’ll miss you too, Jake. And I’ll miss our sessions.”

“Yes, I’ll miss our sessions too. I had all kinds of devious things planned for you. But, they’ll just have to wait until after our club date.”

“When are you leaving? Can’t we have a session this weekend?” I detected a hint of panic in my voice.
Where was this coming from?

“I’ll have to spend the weekend here, or at the office, prepping for the meetings. There’s some policy changes at the local and state level that’s gotten the shareholders nervous. But I don’t want to bore you with the details. It just means I’m not going to be around before the club date, except by phone.”

“Oh.” There was nothing else I could think to say. My heart was tripping along in my chest, a funny syncopated beat.

“Abby? Are you okay?” There was concern in Jake’s voice.

“Well, yes…no, I’m not sure. This is…whatever I’m feeling is a bit scary. I’m not sure how to explain it.” And I didn’t think I could explain it to myself at the moment.

“Listen, Jake. It’s fine…I’m fine. It just took me off guard. And sometimes I don’t respond to change very well.” I forced a smile into my voice.

“I’ll be fine,” I repeated. “I’ll just play dress up with all these new clothes, spank myself and think of you.” There was a brief silence and a subdued laugh on the line.

“You have a really unusual way of putting things into perspective, Abby.”

After he hung up, I sat down among the welter of leather and fishnet and Pleather. My panicky feelings had subsided somewhat. I tried to decide just what I was feeling. Normally, when some guy said he couldn’t see me, I took it as rejection, he didn’t like me anymore, and I’d have cried myself to sleep. But with Jake, that wasn’t it. I believed him when he said he’d be working and I had no doubt he’d be back.

It was something deeper. I was going to miss him; our routine had become something stable in my life, our dinners and sessions something I looked forward to.

I shook my head.
Maybe it’s the submissive in me.
Was I going to miss Jake as my dominant? Was that the reason hearing about his absence sent me into a tailspin?

This was more than I cared to think about at the moment. I finished packing up the box of clothes and tucked it into my closet. I hung the skirt, corset and stockings on a hanger, leaving it hanging on my closet door, where I could look at it. And I did want to look at it; it was a really erotic outfit. And I was going to be wearing it.

I curled up on the bed with the cat, trying to rekindle my dampened enthusiasm. I really was going to miss Jake. A week seemed like an eternity.

On the Saturday of our club date, I was beyond excited. I’d booked a facial, waxing session, and pedicure and manicure. After all that attention, I felt sexy and confident, actually pretty. I wasn’t sure this feeling would carry me through the whole night, but starting out on a positive note couldn’t hurt.

Looking in the mirror, I deemed myself ready. I’d used far more make-up than I usually wore, playing with dramatic eye make-up and red lipstick. Even though it was over the top, it looked pretty good with the new outfit. It may end up all over my face at some point, but at least I’d look good in the beginning.

Jake came to pick me up at ten o’clock. I’d had a nap in the afternoon and managed to eat a meal, even though my nerves had destroyed my appetite. I’d even put out an extra bowl of cat food for the cat, just in case things ran late. When I answered the door, I was breathless, both from nerves and because I hadn’t seen Jake in over a week.

I had a glimpse of him, in a tight black t-shirt and dark jeans, looking understated but enormously sex. But he had me in his arms before the door was even closed, his kiss full of the same longing I had felt all week. I melted against his body, letting him claim my mouth with his, settling some of the butterflies in my stomach.

It was a long time before we came up for air. Jake held me, looking down into my eyes, running his fingers through my hair.

“I’ve missed you, Abby.” And then his eyes slid lower, widening a bit. He held me at arm’s length, his eyes taking in my outfit, turning me in a slow circle.

“Wow.” The word was barely audible, more exhaled than spoken.

“At a loss for words, Jake? That doesn’t happen very often.”

I smiled up at him. “I take it you approve of my choice?”

“I approve very much. You look amazing, Abby.” His hands had started roaming over my body, trying to pull the various zippers up and down. I slapped his hands.

“No, no…not for you, or not now. This is for later.”

He laughed, pulling me close again. “Are you topping from the bottom again, or do you want to switch roles?” He tried kissing me, but I ducked out of his arms.

“We need to go, Jake. Seriously. But first I need your help with this.” I picked up the slave necklace Jake had given me, holding it out to him.

“Please put it on me, Master.” I watched his face, his expression changing from his excitement at seeing me to the realization that I was now in my submissive role. I briefly wondered if that was disobedience, but I didn’t think so. Apparently Jake didn’t either.

“Turn around, Abby.” I obeyed. Jake’s voice had taken on that tone he used in our sessions, the velvet-over-fire tone that affected me deeply. I felt my heart skip a beat and knew from now on, I was in charge. There was something highly erotic in knowing that, along with a profound sense of comfort. It felt right.

The club was a short drive from my apartment, in a mixed neighborhood made up of industrial buildings, small stores and offices and the occasional apartment building. Overall, the area was almost deserted this late at night.

Jake pulled up in front of one of the industrial buildings. It looked abandoned and I glanced up the façade, not seeing any lights in the windows. But as I was standing on the sidewalk gaping upward, I heard Jake talking. I turned to see him handing his keys to a large man, who got into the car, driving down the street.

“Valet parking.” Jake was unusually laconic. He took my arm just before we reached the large door to the building.

“Remember what we talked about yesterday. You’re with me, as my submissive. You are not someone else’s sub. If someone touches you that you do not want to touch you, or I haven’t agreed can touch you, tell me. You won’t be disobeying if that happens.”

I nodded. Jake had spent a long time explaining that nothing would happen to me that I didn’t want, including any scenes with him that I felt uncomfortable doing in public. He’d also mentioned that he might want to share me with another Dom, possibly Chase Thomas.

“Is that typical? I mean, do Doms do that?” It had never occurred to me that Jake would want to share me, with anyone. But the idea had definite appeal to me. Being with another Dom, one with more experience, could only be a good thing, something that would help our relationship.

“Yes, in the context of the club or parties, it can happen. But it’s something everyone agrees on. You’re not passed around from Dom to Dom. It’s all consensual.”

Jake had gone on. “I’ve talked to Chase Thomas a few times over the last few days. He’s offered, if I’m willing and you are, to have a scene with you. It could be private if you like, or public.”

I had said at the time I would make up my mind in the club, unless he demanded a decision right then and there. But Jake had said that it was up to me, he would abide by my final decision.

But standing on the sidewalk in front of the club, my mind was racing. “May I speak, Master?” I was trying hard to stay in my role, but there was just too much in my head right now.

“Yes, of course.” Jake was looking at me, but his face in shadow. The streetlights on this block seemed few and far between.

“Okay. So no one touches me unless it’s okay with you, or with me.” Jake nodded. My voice dropped.

“And if you want to share me, it’s still okay? I mean, with you?” This part of our conversation had left me slightly confused. I knew how I felt, but I still had this lingering sense Jake was less sure if this was something he was comfortable with. There seemed to be something lurking beneath his desire to share me. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t get a read on him on this issue. I hadn’t really given him an answer, couldn’t until I’d seen the club, gotten my feet wet, so to speak.

“Yes, it’s still okay with me. Are you up for it?” There was a forced quality to Jake’s voice. But we’d always agreed on honest communication; if he was telling me it was okay, then it was okay.

“Yes. I am. I’m fine with it…now.” Jake nodded, taking my arm, leading me toward the large door.

“Unless he’s ugly and has snaggle teeth.” I felt a bit giddy and a small fit of giggles escaped me.

Jake looked down at me, his face now illuminated by the overhead light of the door. I saw him smile, shake his head.

“Abby. What am I going to do with you?”

But I didn’t need to worry about Chase Thomas being ugly or having snaggle teeth. After the doorman had verified Jake and I were on the guest list, he’d lead us to a small room off of what appeared to be a large lounge. There had been small groups of people, some couples, standing or sittings, talking quietly. Music was playing somewhere deep inside the club, but the atmosphere here was relaxed and fairly quiet.

The man sitting behind a small desk was anything but ugly. And his smile was on the dazzling side; not a snaggle tooth in evidence. I hadn’t been sure what to expect, but this really wasn’t it.