Page 36 of Dominant

He pulled back and smiled at me, something dangerous glinting in his eyes, and finally, I felt a tremor of fear.

Was I up for this?

And if I wasn’t… was it too late?

Alexander

I made Jordan stand in the parlour room for three hours, watching as club members swarmed around her - poking, prodding, and asking me if they could have her.

About two hours in, she’d asked me if she could go to the bathroom. I’d said no, simply, heartlessly, cruelly. I could see she was suffering. It was a long time to be in nipple clamps, a long time to be on her feet, a long time to hold her bladder. When I could see that she was nearly faint with exhaustion, I announced that we were leaving - to the disappointment of the many men who were delighting in touching and molesting her. Mister Strict had the first knuckle of his finger up her ass, to her obvious discomfort, and was delighting in poking it in and out. She was tired and I didn’t want things to go too far, either.

I released the nipple clamps before dressing her in her shift and she shuddered with relief, the sound of her breath making my cock stiffen in my pants. Her nipples were red, angry-looking and swollen, and I knew they’d be painful the next day. She inhaled sharply as the fabric of her dress brushed against them.

I waited in her bed, fully clothed, while a servant helped to bathe her, and when she returned to the room, I let her curl up against me in her shift. I stroked her thick, smooth hair, rocking her slightly against me until her breathing eased into something between wakefulness and sleep.

Novices, as we called initiates in their first two weeks, needed extra care after they’d been in the clubhouse, and I didn’t know if I was the right person to do it. I’d been accused of not providing sufficient aftercare to my subs after a scene. As a driven, independent person, it could be hard for me to understand that other people needed caring and softness.

It felt different with Jordan, though, I thought to myself, as I pulled her in tight against me and smelled the clean smell of her hair. I wanted to hold and soothe and comfort her.

“You did well tonight,” I murmured into her hair.

“Thank you,” she breathed.

I kept my tone gentle. “You always say Sir or Master when addressing one of the Doms.”

“Yes, Sir,” she answered obediently. “Sorry, Sir.”

“It’s okay,” I told her, rocking her slightly. “I know you’re trying.”

I felt her nod, and then nuzzle in closer against me. Her whole body seemed to melt into mine. I marvelled that she could give herself up with such abandon - then again, many subs could.

After a while, when her breath was slow and deep with sleep, I slid out from under her and tucked her into the bed.

I looked down at her face before I left the room. She was beautiful. Her dark hair fell loosely around her, long and thick. She was thin - bony even - but then extraordinarily soft and full in all the right places, like her round, heavy breasts and luscious, beestung lips…

I ached for her.

What I felt didn’t matter, though, I reminded myself, as I headed down the stairs of the House of Initiates and out the door. I was the master of my feelings and knew my own resolve. Jordan was already too embedded in my life. Fucking her would only bring her in deeper and cause even more complications.

And considering she had gone from girl-I’m-not-going-to-get-involved-with to my contractual sex slave in only three weeks, things had clearly already gone too far.

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